


love, lust and other contradictions

by englishsummerrain



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Background Relationships, Drinking, Friends With Benefits, Gangbang with Plot, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:40:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 62,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22266520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishsummerrain/pseuds/englishsummerrain
Summary: Donghyuck moves to a new state, joins a frat, adopts an omega, and tries to navigate junior year without passing out in the fountain again — or losing his cowboy boots.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Comments: 143
Kudos: 423





	1. Never judge a man by the content of his medicine cabinet.

**Author's Note:**

> to everyone who's heard me talk about this on twitter. hi. i've wanted to write porn with plot for a looong time so let's go at it. most of the worldbuilding should be explained in fic but if anything isn't clear just give me a shout out and i'll try explain it :) enjoy my take on a/b/o <3
> 
> thank you to hara and claire for betaing this for me <3 you're both awesome, love you.
> 
> disclaimer: i am not american. i have never even been to the states. i tried my best to research and read far too many texas memes but. you know. let's pretend a/b/o has warped america and any differences are because of that.
> 
> [playlist which will undoubtedly change as i write this](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1DXomlSgysyO3DrKd60Xbv?si=SvpEt-dxTiOpgPvI5EsA2w)

Renjun Huang comes to Donghyuck from on high. 

Quite literally. 

When Donghyuck pulls into his new home street — a cul-de-sac that looks like every other cul-de-sac in South California — and counts the houses until he reaches sixteen, he's been on the road for almost ten hours. He'd started in Texas — at home, two hours out of Dallas — drove nearly eight hours straight to El Paso, then woke up at ass crack in the morning 'o clock to make it to California before dinner time, eating lunch at a depressing McDonald's in a strip mall off the interstate and only stopping to refuel otherwise. Crossing two time zones means it's only near six pm when he arrives and the sun is still bright and crisp, the sky cool blue, a soft breeze sending a few fallen leaves scattering down the sidewalk. He parks his pickup on the curb, self-conscious of his out of state plates and the sheer size of his car compared to the compact two door in front of it, and pulls his suitcase out of the back seat.

There's noise coming from the house. A lot of noise. On the outside it's nice — painted seafoam green with pretty little shutters on the window, a knocked-over set of garden gnomes in an empty flower box. But it's fair to say that when he stops in the yard — suitcase in one hand — and stares up at the person crouched on the shingle, he's justified in his assumption of a lack-of-sleep-induced hallucination. His hands are cupped around his mouth and he’s wearing all black, an ensemble only broken by neon green sunglasses. He's yelling down at someone on the other side of the house, though Donghyuck can't understand the words on account of the music — Nirvana's 'Smells Like Teen Spirit', turned up to eleven — blasting from the open windows.

The music stops, song over, and there's a pause before the soft guitar strum of the next one begins.

The figure on the roof yells: "He already signed the contract!" 

And someone on the ground replies: "Can you at least pretend?"

The boy on the roof pauses, as if he's seriously considering it, then lets out an evil cackle. "What if I don't?"

Donghyuck doesn't hear the reply. The chorus hits, a swelling roar of distorted guitars and drum beats. The boy on the roof flips the bird to whoever is below him and sits back down. Show’s over.

He hauls his suitcase to the front door and, despite the fact it's wide open, presses the doorbell.

  
  


*

  
  


The door is answered by Jaemin — the same person who Donghyuck had been texting about moving in in the first place. The Kakaotalk picture Donghyuck had seen of him was frankly unflattering — the kind of Facebook photo his mom's friends took — but in person Jaemin is something else. He’s fucking gorgeous — long eyelashes, million dollar smile, eyes that sparkle when he grins down at Donghyuck. Deep voiced, and so obviously an alpha that he might has well have tattooed it across his forehead. 

Donghyuck doesn’t mind. He has no issue living with other alphas — not like some of his roommates at UNT, who had taken offence to being placed in an alpha suite and had proceeded to scent the entire room. Most of them smelled like wet ass or swampy towels, so it had been a relief when he'd been able to get a double in his sophomore year shared with a beta.

They hadn’t talked about their status when they were messaging, actually. Donghyuck had told Jaemin he was an alpha and Jaemin hadn’t said anything else about it, so he’d assumed it was all okay. Maybe it was different in California. Maybe Jaemin didn’t think Donghyuck would challenge him. Maybe it didn’t matter. Donghyuck has a burning curiosity, of course, to be nosy and just ask outright, but his mama didn’t raise him to be rude like that.

Jaemin shows him his room — second floor, windows overlooking the front of the house, low roof but airy and bright — and gives him a preliminary tour. Jeno's room is opposite his, on the other side of the landing, and Renjun’s is above — sitting level with most of the roof. There’s a music studio that opens onto the back deck which apparently Renjun pays extra rent for, while the bottom floor is occupied mostly by a very full garage and open plan kitchen-living room area. Jaemin's bedroom backs out onto the tiny backyard, and the biggest bathroom is adjoined to it — sea blue, huge vanity overflowing with skincare and various medications, bathtub with a high tide mark of pink around the sides, shower with the fanciest head attachment he’s ever seen in his life and a bath mat that says ‘If you can read this take another shot’.

“Housewarming gift,” Jaemin says when he catches Donghyuck looking at it. 

“Not the worst college decor I’ve ever seen.”

One of his roommates had had a body pillow with a scantily clad anime girl on it, complete with a weeaboo wall of titty posters that Donghyuck had to wake up to _every day_. A bath mat telling him to drink was nothing.

“I mean,” Jaemin starts, then pulls closed the shower curtain, revealing a very large image of Jeff Goldblum with a monkey. He looks back at Donghyuck expectantly.

“I think it’s beautiful.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “You and Jeno are going to get along well.”

Renjun is off the roof when Donghyuck comes back out to the living room. The music has stopped and close up he looks much more put together, but there's still a slight shine of a burnt out youth to him, owing largely to the sun bleached clothing and the fact that his hair looks like it hasn't seen a pair of scissors in half a year. The nails on his right hand are painted black and he's sitting cross legged on a couch that was almost definitely pulled from a dumpster, clutching his phone and bobbing his head side to side like he's listening to invisible music

"You stopped the noise, finally,” Jaemin says. Renjun looks up at him and smiles, eyes sliding over to Donghyuck. There’s a spark in them, not mischief but something wild, like by the act of locking eyes he’s extending to Donghyuck an invitation to go spray graffiti on walls and do burnouts in the Walmart parking lot while listening to Rage Against the Machine. He’s exactly the kind of boy Donghyuck’s mom would have warned him about — smells kind of skunky like weed, listens to hard rock, has definitely committed a crime or two in his time.

Renjun shrugs. “I was getting a tan.”

“You live in California. You’re always tan.”

“The right amount of tan, where it looks like I only go outside for classes and whatever beach party is offering free alcohol. Not so it looks like I actually exercise, or something.”

“Ha ha.” Jaemin turns to Donghyuck. “This is our little squirt Renjun. Renjun, our new tenant.”

"What lies did Jaemin tell you to get you to agree to living here?" Renjun asks.

“He said y'all’d cook me dinner every night,” Donghyuck says. Renjun snorts, raises an eyebrow.

“You know my guidance counsellor begged me to drop home ec in twelfth grade because I was so bad at it? You really want me cooking dinner?”

“That’s bullshit,” Jaemin says. He crosses his arms and tilts his head at Renjun, who just glares up at him like he’s an idiot.

“Did I never tell you this story? Apparently I was terrorising the teacher. I think it was because I set a cake on fire by accident and made her cry.”

“You set a _cake_ on fire?”

“I was literally baked out of mind all of senior year,” Renjun says, “and kind of an asshole, too."

"You're an asshole now," Jaemin says. He has a pack of gum in his hand, seemingly pulled from nowhere, and he offers a piece to Donghyuck, who accepts with hesitation.

"That's true," Renjun says. "But only to the people I love. She was just doing her job. I feel pretty awful about it, actually."

"Always knew you were capable of empathy."

"Despite popular belief, I _am_ a human being," Renjun says, just as the front door opens. They all turn in time, like a practised troupe, to see who exactly it is — even though there’s only one real option. Circle glasses, muscle shirt, summer tan, tattoo hugging the edge of his ribcage. He’s holding a plastic bag in one hand and a jumbo sized Coke bottle in the other and Jeno Lee — like Jaemin — is fucking hot. "Honestly could have fooled me," he says, his accent broad. Innocent smile, and then he sees Donghyuck and waves at him like he’s an old friend. "Mate! Donghyuck right? Welcome."

“Howdy,” Donghyuck says, just as Renjun retorts with:

"You failed robotics, Jeno.”

"Sure did." Jeno says, shooting finger guns at Donghyuck, then shrugging. "I feel like it's a rite of passage for every humanities student to fail at least one science paper, right?"

"Jaemin didn't," Renjun says. "Oh wait, that's because he slept with the TA — but that’s beside the point, right?”

“I was sleeping with Jaehyun _before_ he was my TA, thank you very much.”

“But you _were_ still sleeping with him.”

Jaemin huffs out a breath of air like an engine letting off steam and flips Renjun the bird. 

“What about you Donghyuck,” he says, turning away from where Renjun is smirking at him, almost sinking into the cushions with how laid back his position has become — legs unfolded wide, arms spread out. “You're arts too, right? Ancient history?"

"English lit," Donghyuck says, feeling put on the spot. He _does_ have a story to tell about that one. "I did almost bomb my entire first semester. Thought they were going to send someone to hunt me down and get my fees back. It was kinda terrifying."

"Oh? What were you doing?"

"Not English," Donghyuck says. 

Renjun lets out a whistle. "Let me guess, parents, huh?"

His father's request, of course, had been business school or nothing — because if his eldest alpha wasn't going to take over the farm, at least he was going to study something useful, right?

“Bingo, winner winner.”

There's a chuckle shared by all of them, a shared childhood no matter what state or country they were from. A 'somehow we got out of this' sort of laugh.

“Well, you’re in a house of humanities majors — and one meathead sports scholarship kid. You’re probably in the right place.”

“Y’all aren’t being very convincing of that.”

“We’re great,” Jeno says, kicking Jaemin in the shin with a sweep of his foot. "Trust me. And I’m _definitely_ not a meathead.” Jeno holds up the bag in his hand and gestures to Jaemin. "They were out of the brand of taco shells you like, so I got the next best? Is that alright?"

"It's fine," Jaemin says. "Just throw it on the counter. Grab some beer too. Let's just... I dunno dude, it's hot. What do you want to do, Donghyuck? Who are you? Do we do intros? C'mon. Let's get the worst part of the day out of the way. Just like the first class of the semester."

Jeno returns with a six pack, chilled thankfully, and his bottle opener (a cute little lizard that bites onto the rim of the cap) is passed around the room. Donghyuck murmurs a thank you and Jeno raises his eyebrows, takes a seat on the biggest couch beside Jaemin, leaving Donghyuck to sit beside Renjun on the love seat.

"C'mere big boy," Renjun says, patting his side and then laughing when Donghyuck gives him an amused expression. "What?"

"Bit forward to assume, don't ya think?"

Jaemin laughs, a sharp 'hah!' that cracks through the air like a whip. Renjun just rolls his eyes and takes a sip from his beer. Donghyuck isn’t particularly keen to sit next to Renjun, considering his smell, but he finds it's not as unpleasant in close proximity — less stale and more earthy and warm, comforting in a way. He tries not to breathe it in too heavily — there's an enchanting quality about it that he wants to pull apart, addictive almost.

"So," Jaemin raises his eyebrows. "I guess I should go first. This is so fucking lame, honestly. Why did I think this was a good idea?"

"This is Jaemin and he likes monologues," Jeno says in a stage whisper. There's a glint of mischief in his eyes, crescent moons that rise when he smiles, and he tilts his head towards Jaemin. "Get used to ignoring him."

Renjun lets out a long yawn and starts talking over Jaemin, who’s rambling about school history or drinking or being old enough to drink or something that never makes it to Donghyuck’s ears, because at that moment Renjun leans in. His arm presses against Donghyuck’s skin, a burst of lingering warmth, and Donghyuck loses all focus of Jaemin entirely. 

"When's open day, Jeno?" Renjun asks.

Jeno scratches his chin, giving the appearance of a statue in thought, before he tilts his head to the side. "Tuesday. We should set up Monday night though. Sigma Pi might try to claim our spot."

“If they do, I’ll sic Jungwoo on them. He’s still looking for revenge for the Halloween party.”

“Oh shit, they still didn’t apologise for that?”

“Nope,” Renjun shakes his head. “He’s pissed. You know we're gonna be huge this year though because of it, they’re really looking to knock it out of the park. I’ll be surprised if anyone turns up at Sigma Pi at all. Heard they’re already looking to poach pledges, too.”

"Open day for what?" Donghyuck asks. "Wait, y'all are _frat bros?_ "

Renjun starts to laugh, turns to Donghyuck and gives him a look. "In the loosest sense of the word, sure," he says. "We're in a frat. And we're kind of like brothers, right?"

“This isn’t a frat house, is it?”

“Is it?” Jaemin says. Monologue over, he’s back in the conversation like nothing had happened. “God no. Do you see any holes in the walls? Corners where some alpha passed out and scented the carpet? Random fucking pinterest ‘house rules’ blackboards? No, the frat house is like, ten minutes away.”

“Twenty, if you’re drunk. Thirty if you’re Jeno and drunk,” Renjun says. Jeno opens his mouth but Renjun keeps talking. "There's wild parties, don't get me wrong. But we're not like any of the big frats — we haven’t like, killed a pledge or anything, and we’re not gonna make you take off all your clothes to get hazed. We're local. Just here to have a good time and look out for each other.”

There’s a pause, where Renjun looks at him, expectant, and then Jaemin throws his hands up.

“And get super fucking _wasted_ because it’s junior year, baby, and the cops can’t stop me!"

"An alpha frat?" Donghyuck asks, ignoring Jaemin's fist pumps and whoops under his breath. Every single frat at UNT had been segregated by presentation — bar one. He’d been tempted to join one to be honest, but a few minutes in a house that was freshly scented right down to the foundations with forty or so alphas had changed his mind. A stench he’d never forget, and more than anything a panic response in his chest that he was about to be attacked.

"Not really," Renjun says. "Well. We’re a pretty new frat. Our founder is still our leader — Taeyong — he's in post-grad now. He's an omega, but most of our chapter members are alphas, yeah. It's not a strict requirement but you know. We like to call them his harem sometimes."

"You're so foul," Jaemin says. "Taeyong's mated. Don’t even think about it."

"Why can't he have a harem of alphas?" Renjun says. He leans forward in his seat, like Jaemin’s words are a challenge. "What's stopping him?"

"Kun would probably like,” Jeno says. “Exact vengeance on them or something."

"You’re acting like if anyone hurt Taeyong he wouldn't get them first."

"Right," Renjun says, laughing. "That's true. You know he's a black belt?"

"Yeah, I see him at the gym all the time," Jeno says. "When I was doing boxing we used to spar together. He's a fast bugger."

"Exactly. So no-one's gonna fuck with him. Point being, Donghyuck; we accept everyone, pretty much, as long as they're not an asshole. Alpha or not."

Renjun is smiling, ever so slightly, corner of his mouth upturned, eyes dark where they're trained on Donghyuck. Testing him? 

He feels like he's being looked over — like it's exam season and he's trapped in one of those dreams where he finds out he's enrolled in a class he needs to pass that he didn't even know he was taking. He has _no idea_ what he's supposed to be doing. What the right move is. He never studied for this.

"Okay," Donghyuck says. It seems neutral enough.

"Okay?" Renjun cocks an eyebrow, pokes him in the arm. "Alright yeehaw boy. Just saying. I hear a bad word come from your mouth and I'll do drum practice every night you have an exam."

"Don't you do that anyway?" Jaemin asks. Renjun throws his bottle cap at him.

"Fuck off."

  
  


*

  
  


Living with Jaemin, Renjun and Jeno is far better than Donghyuck had assumed it would be. They’re still gross and grungy, but so is Donghyuck, and they pay a maid to come around twice a month so the place is usually clean enough. Renjun sometimes stays up until two a.m. making music in his studio, which shares a wall with Donghyuck’s room, and Jeno has essentially unleashed a chemical weapon on the place multiple times after reheating week old leftovers, and one time Donghyuck stood on a taco shell when he was getting a midnight snack but it’s — functional. It’s doable. He gets used to living with them, and more than anything he actually enjoys it.

He’s nosy, of course. Can’t help himself. When he goes to brush his teeth he snoops the medicine cabinet — because he just has to know — and confirms his suspicions. Jeno is an alpha (rut suppressants the exact same brand as his own), and Jaemin is too, two neat bottles alongside a jumbo sized jar of ibuprofen, and what looks like a veritable pharmacy’s worth of unlabelled pills in random blister packs and amber bottles. There’s no sign of any suppressants for Renjun, and Donghyuck revels in the smug satisfaction that his hunch he was a beta was correct. Jeno was easy enough to guess — he wouldn’t be here on sports scholarship if he didn’t have alpha strength — and Renjun’s general ability to ignore anything Jaemin told him had basically confirmed his beta status. As far as Donghyuck knew omegas tended to bend over backwards for anything an alpha told them to do — whether it was conscious or not — but Renjun’s stint on the roof, and general tendency to tell Jaemin to shove anything he didn't like up his ass seemed cool and controlled.

Three alphas in a house might have been rough in some circumstances, but Donghyuck finds it’s not actually terrible. Jeno is fairly passive, only gets snippy or territorial around the full moon — so it’s mostly Jaemin that Donghyuck gets into fights with. It’s all over stupid shit like who ate the last of the peanut butter or who drank all the iced tea or who had that pizza slice I’d been saving for three days or when Jaemin gets a bit too much up in his face and leaves Donghyuck snarling and growling, teeth bared. There’s a few snaps exchanged for surprising him, but otherwise things are fairly calm. None of the house is particularly scented, and Donghyuck finds it easy to relax once his own scent is added to the low-key mix that’s seeped into the floorboards. He’s been in alpha houses where the whole place felt like a panic room, like he was being screamed at by someone’s pheromones to leave now or he’d have a whole pack on his back.

Here? Nothing of the sort. Though he supposed they were his pack now, in the loosest sense of the term. Modernisation meant pack forming was less rare, but it was a colloquial term more than anything these days. Your friend group — the people you trust with your guard down. And Donghyuck had to trust them. Occasionally he got a whiff of Jaemin’s scent while he was showering and his hackles went up, but he had to remind himself it was okay.

Alpha Epsilon Alpha — the Scream Team, as everyone seems to call them — offer him a bid with some kind of handwavey bullshit from Renjun. He’s taken to their frat house (which is fucking huge and — owing almost entirely to the charcoal black paint that coats the outside — definitely belongs on the ‘houses with threatening auras’ Twitter) and thrown into a room with a bunch of freshmen, threatened with a water gun by the pledge master, Kun, then dropped off at In-N-Out around sundown, feeling completely dazed and confused. One of the other pledges — a boy called Jisung who looks like a mouse and stutters every third word — buys him a burger and shares his fries with him, and the two of them sit together at a table sticky with Coke and eat while Donghyuck waits for Jeno to come pick him up.

“Why are you rushing if you’re a junior?” Jisung says. He has ketchup on his lip and his hoodie is far too big for him, a soft aqua green that hangs off his shoulders like seawater dripping down a wall. His circle glasses are also too big for his face, and all together if he wasn’t six foot tall Donghyuck would have thought him fifteen at most. He swears the freshmen get more baby faced every year.

“I just moved here,” Donghyuck says. He’s craving iced tea, but he’s also too cheap to buy some right now knowing that he has a whole bottle in the fridge at home.

"Oh," Jisung says. He takes a sip of his drink and picks up another fry. "Are you rooming on campus?"

"Nah. I'm about twenty minutes over yonder," he says, hooking his thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of where he thinks their house is. Jisung whistles.

"That's lucky. I'm in Oak Hall. It sucks. But we have to live in dorms first year."

"That's the omega hall, isn't it?" Donghyuck asks. He remembers Renjun talking about it — there were five segregated halls total: three for omegas and two for alphas. There was a choice for mixed but apparently most omegas chose to live with their own type. Less threat, less having to smell alpha scent everywhere.

"Yeah," Jisung nods. “There’s a girl like three doors down from me who isn’t on suppressants and she went into heat last night and I have to listen to her yowling. I keep forgetting my keycard, too. It feels like a gated community. I can’t even invite any of my alpha friends over. It’s really weird.”

“Don’t have to deal with alphas in your home though.”

“That’s true,” Jisung says. He eats without pause, just keeps shovelling fries into his mouth one by one and chewing between words. “My sister was the only alpha in the house back home and she just scented everything. It smelled so bad. It was okay at high school though — my parents sent me to a boarding school, I think because they were kind of ashamed of me, but it was nice because there were only three male omegas so we all got double suites to ourselves.”

“Being an omega ain’t nothing to be ashamed of,” Donghyuck says, latching on to the throwaway part of the sentence. Jisung shakes his head rapidly, like he’s trying to shake the thought out of his mind.

“No, no. It’s okay. It's not like that. It's just like, how am I supposed to do anything? Like, everyone wants an alpha son, don’t they? But it was my sister instead. My parents are just traditionalists, they didn't know how to cope. But we're okay now."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be," Donghyuck says. "I think my daddy's still got his knickers in a twist that I didn't follow in the family business."

Jisung smiles, mopping up sauce with his burger. "Always fun to buck the trend, right?"

"I aim for it," Donghyuck says with a grin. “Probably bought a lot of gossip down on my parents, but I reckon it was the right choice.” 

"How do you like California, then?"

Donghyuck shrugs. "Nice enough. Always nice to pull up to the traffic lights and not be stuck behind someone's horse. Or late to school because a bunch of cattle got out on the road."

Jisung snorts. "Yeah. I'm from Minnesota, so... we just have to deal with roadworks 364 days of the year. And blizzards in the winter. Do you guys get snow down south? Where are you from?”

"Texas," Donghyuck says. "Little bit of snow. But you'll see everyone driving in it anyway — not much gonna stop a Texan if he has somewhere to be. Snow was pretty nice, actually. You live out in the country, Jisung?"

He shakes his head. "Minneapolis. That's the city."

"Right. Well, thing about the country is it's quiet. I mean you got your frogs, and your insects singing, and the cows always seem to be yelling, but when it snows it just becomes quiet. Pure quiet. My daddy's got bad ringing in his ears from shooting his guns, so he said snow always sounded like bells, but for me — just nothing. It's the best feeling in the world, walking out in the morning to complete silence, just your feet on the ground and the sound of your breath in your ears. Pure bliss."

Jisung blows out a breath. "Yeah. I know what you mean. We'd always go up to the lakes in the winter and some mornings you'd just wake up to snow everywhere. Like a big white blanket of silence. It was nice, feeling alone for a bit."

Donghyuck nods. It's one of the things he misses most about home — the feeling of being utterly alone, just you and nature for miles. Driving out into the middle of the paddocks and sitting under a tree in the bed of his truck, reading his book, or when he was a kid when he and his sisters used to play in the stream and catch frogspawn. Middle of the night, when the stars came out and the moon was brilliant and bright, burning silver that washed the entire world in light, and you looked up into the black sky and felt like you needed to hold onto the Earth or you'd fall into the heavens. Satellites drifting through galaxies, winking lights beckoning you into glitter studded the bowl of the sky. There's so few stars here — sometimes Donghyuck gets the urge to just get in his car and drive into the middle of the desert so he can see them again, escape from the light pollution and remember what it's like to be alone.

He appreciates the city though. Convenience is the name of the game — being within a walk of his friend's houses. Not having to wake up because someone's cow is in his front yard anymore. Cable not going down for a week at a time. Functioning stop lights. The little things.

"Yeah," Donghyuck says. "It's nice to feel like a part of the crowd too, though."

Jisung nods, chewing slowly on his burger. There's a thoughtfulness to him, something sweet, something curious. He plays with the edge of his drink cup, flicking the plastic and tearing it into pieces while he eats. Donghyuck watches him with fondness — though he's unsure if it's the alpha-omega instinct, or just that Jisung is genuinely endearing.

"Do you think you'll stay? Like go through with your pledge?" Donghyuck asks, once Jisung's finished chewing a mouthful of burger that was likely far too big for him. His eyes go wide and then he nods, rapidly again, like he's a woodpecker knocking at a tree trunk.

"Of course! I mean, I was thinking about joining Lambda Tau — I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't hate omegas or anything, I don't mind being an omega I'm not ashamed of it but — but I don't know if I want to be a part of that sort of organisation you know? And Taeyong was so nice to me. Kun kind of scares me but someone told me he's Taeyong's mate? Like that seems okay, right? KASA were also trying to recruit me but my friend said they're mostly for parties and I don't think I’m looking to party that hard. But Alpha Epsilon Alpha seem okay? I mean I'll try to go through with it, right."

The way he talks makes Donghyuck feel breathless — it all comes out in one go, thoughts barely connected, random words and sharp intakes of breath to keep himself going. Donghyuck laughs, a huff of air. "Yeah. I didn't join the greek life at my last school but my housemates kind of pushed me into this one. Not much of a partier either."

"But it's college, right?" Jisung says, scraping around the bottom of the bag, presumably looking for more fries. Donghyuck pushes his packet over to him and Jisung gives him a wide smile, more gum than teeth, eyes sparkling. "Thanks. It's college, right? So we should make the most of it. I think, anyway."

"That why you dipped and came south?"

"Well. Sort of. I wanted something new. California seems like a good place. You know, Hollywood makes it seem so shiny and nice."

"How quick was that illusion shattered?" Donghyuck asks. Jisung frowns.

"Somewhere in the two hour traffic it took me to get away from LAX," he says. "I wound down the window and it smelled like shit. It was not pleasant."

Donghyuck lets out a laugh. He hasn't actually been into LA proper yet — though Jaemin has been talking about going to the beach before the real heat of summer faded. No plans had ever solidified, yet, and he reckons the time to do so was rapidly fading. Makes a mental note to bring it up again.

"My mom thought everyone was going to try rob me," Donghyuck says. "She begged me to stay. But I didn't want to. I couldn't."

"That's alright," Jisung says. "I can understand. You get restless sometimes, right?"

"Right," Donghyuck says. His phone buzzes and he swipes it open with a grease stained finger.

**jeno** : where are you??

**donghyuck** : come inside. im with one of the freshman pledges.

He turns around to look out at the carpark — the sun has almost set and the light is starting to dull, but there's no mistaking Jeno's tiny two-door Toyota pulling up. He laughs when Jeno drops his keys onto the asphalt then scrambles to pick them up and checks no-one noticed. When the sliding doors open for him Donghyuck shoots his hand up to flag him down.

"This isn't even that far," is the first thing he says.

"What do you want from me?" Donghyuck says. "Kun dumped us here. I'm not walking in that heat. Do you know how much I sweat? This is Jisung, by the way," he adds, gesturing to where Jisung is peeling apart his straw. "Jisung, this is Jeno. We live together."

"Freshmen really do get younger every year," Jeno says.

"You're just getting older," Jisung says, and Jeno's eyebrows shoot up into his hair.

"Wow. You've got a bloody mouth on you, don't you?"

Jisung blushes and mumbles something he can't quite catch, ducking his head down and shredding another piece of plastic from his straw.

"Don't be mean to him. I like him," Donghyuck says. He does. Jisung is cute, in the kind of endearing way something small and vulnerable is — never mind the fact that he's taller than Donghyuck and could be hiding a six pack under that giant sweater for all he knows.

He really needs to kick the omega stereotypes from his head.

"You want to adopt him?" Jeno laughs.

"I'm not up for adoption," Jisung says.

Jeno nods. "Yeah. Alright. You want a ride home?"

Jisung perks up, pushing his glasses up his nose and leaving a fat greasy fingerprint on the bridge. "Yes please!"

  
  


*

  
  


It’s a delicious stroke of irony that Jeno ends up choosing Jisung as his little. Their pledging class is only four people — Alpha Epsilon Alpha isn't a particularly large frat — and Donghyuck’s big ends up being a kid his age called Felix — an Australian who somehow has a thicker accent than Jeno and seems to be constantly losing his wallet. Most of his early duties involve doing beer runs, on account of being the only non-freshman pledge, and Donghyuck takes a little relief in getting off in what he thinks is relative ease.

Jaemin's insistence that they weren't slave drivers seemed to be true. Most of the hazing is rote learning — memorising the greek alphabet, singing songs, making up dictionary definitions for whatever Kun thought was funny — though Donghyuck wasn't immune to being forced into physical labour when the house demanded it. On a sweaty September afternoon he and Jisung help move a couch up the rickety stairs, almost drop a pool table on their toes moving it from one living room to another, and then follow up on a deal for a suite of furniture on Craigslist secured by Jeno. He’s handed him a fat wad of cash and threatened with a confetti cannon to go pick up a giant oak table from some graduating student's unit, then moves it into the room where the pool table had been. 

The next evening is stuffing envelopes with messages regarding the fall formal — and then the week after that he has to carry a magic staff and wear a Gandalf hat to his lectures. He falls asleep in a tutu on the baseball pitch, shaves all his body hair and tapes it to his chin, eats an entire can of aerosol whipped cream, gets his ass whooped into the next dimension at DDR by an incredibly smug Renjun, does planks while singing ‘Achy Breaky Heart’. It's not difficult — it's just tiring — and he arrives home every night to see Jaemin and Renjun squabbling over Mario Kart while he's been cutting the lawns and painting the basement.

"Having fun?" Jeno asks, sitting at the kitchen, homework serving as a stand for his phone. Donghyuck opens the fridge and tries to put together some semblance of a meal from the leftovers and random bits and pieces Jaemin has shoved into the shelves. He lifts up a box of Panda Express that he's pretty sure is Renjun's and pokes at it, tells Jeno he’s fine without really focusing. When he walks back to the living room there's a victory screen on the TV — Princess Daisy celebrating with the first place cup.

"Do you want this?" he asks Renjun, who looks up from where he has Jaemin in a headlock and laughs.

"You can have it. Christ, dude. You look shot. Kun finally got that basement painted huh? "

"I got a coupon for half off the paint," Jaemin says. Renjun's palm, flat against his cheek, pushes him into the cushions more.

"Shut up!" Renjun says. "Blue shell users have no speaking rights."

Jaemin screeches and wiggles in Renjun’s grip, face squished into the couch. It’s all just for play — Jaemin could probably throw Renjun across the room if he wanted to — but even so it brings a fondness to Donghyuck’s heart.

"Yeah, we got the basement done. Thanks. Get a good hit in for me, would you?"

Donghyuck reheats the chow mein in the microwave and hops up onto the bench, checks his messages and scrolls through Instagram while he waits for it to cool down. The work today hadn't been hard — just boring — though he feels bad for Jisung, who had been sweating in the basement even with the fans pointed on him, omega metabolism naturally running hot. Near the end of the day he'd told him to just take a break, had finished up the rest of the room himself and then gone out with him for Ben and Jerry's. They'd sat on the main street together, feeling like characters from a movie under the California sunset glow. Dust on their shirts, paint on their skin, sharing ice cream and watching people go by.

"Jisung told me where you guys were this evening," Jeno says. "Says you took him out for dinner." The light of the kitchen bulbs reflects in his glasses, sparkling smudges of fluorescent haze, and there's ink rubbed all over his fingertips and the side of his hand, his handwriting scrawling across the paper.

"We got ice cream after we were done painting," Donghyuck says. “If you call that dinner.” He snaps open a pair of disposable chopsticks and picks through the leftovers, searching for any shrimp Renjun might have left behind.

"Ice cream is a full meal!" Jeno says. "Anything's a meal if you believe it is."

"I'll take things you hear from college students for 100, Alex."

Jeno smiles at him and shrugs. "He seemed happy about it. That's what I'm saying. He texted me afterwards. So thanks."

"Brothers stick together, right?" Donghyuck gestures at Jeno with his chopsticks, receives an eyesmile in return.

"Of course,” he says. “That's what it's all about. We look out for each other."

  
  


*

  
  


Midterms come and go, mostly with Donghyuck cramming his entire syllabus into two weeks, reading 'Infinite Jest' back to front and slamming down enough Monster to kill a small child. Jaemin gets busy planning the Scream Team Halloween party (it turns out, to Donghyuck’s utter surprise, that he’s the chapter treasurer — more responsible than he’d ever appeared) and Jeno is in the gym more often than not. Renjun seems to disappear into the nether, only turning up at odd hours to pick up Uber eats from the front door, and if it wasn't for the constant noise coming from his studio Donghyuck would have thought he'd moved out all together. It leaves Jisung as his only available close friend, and the two of them take advantage of Jisung's light schedule and Donghyuck's procrastination habits to spend more time together than is probably healthy.

Donghyuck's exams finish earlier than most and they drive out to Joshua Tree together in celebration. Jisung spends the whole day gasping and cooing, diving behind rocks and running his fingers over tree bark, snapping photos of wildlife with his camera and calling over Donghyuck to look at what he’s found. They split a late lunch under the shade of the arch rock and stare out over the sand, watching the coloured dots of other hikers dip in out of the boulders, the sky above them as vast and empty as the ocean. Come sundown they're at Keys View, watching the light fall away. The horizon drips with golden oil, smudged upwards into a pristine blue like the roofs of Santorini, and the fading rays of sunlight paint streaks of fire against the hot sand. In the high desert the world seems to end, every dip of the valley beautiful in the gilded light, sunshine tipping away. Far off the coyotes howl, blue hour descending, and the two of them stay until the stars come out, until the sky is black as tar and Donghyuck can pick out the constellations his mom taught him when he was little.

They eat in town, at a tiny bar where a band he's never heard is tinkering around on the stage. It's not the best bar food he's ever had, but after a day of walking in the desert sun it tastes like heaven, and by the time they're back in the car, headed home, Jisung's eaten enough to pass out into a food coma — his head on the window, soft smile on his face. 

Donghyuck walks him to his dorm, through the spots of the floodlights and across the football pitch to a huge brick building surrounded in wrought iron fence. There's a sign beside the keypad reminding residents that all alphas are strictly forbidden, and a second below it saying who to call if you've lost your card. The fountain in the courtyard gurgles and a few owls hoot in the darkness — and through the walls he hears laughter, shadows moving behind the blinds, bass a whisper.

"Thanks Hyuck," Jisung murmurs, eyes sleepy, sand stuck to his shirt. "That was nice." He leans into him, wraps his arms around his waist and squeezes tight, burying his face in his hair and resting his weight against him. Donghyuck brings a hand up to his back and gives him a squeeze.

"You're welcome."

This close — under the sweat and dirt and grease of their dinner — he can smell his scent. Something cool and crisp, fresh water over mossy boulders — a day in spring heat, before the summer has began to bake the ground but after the ice has melted. 

More of a feeling than a smell — something comforting, something like:

"I've always wanted a brother," Jisung says. Donghyuck freezes, Jisung's grip tightening around him.

Something that feels a little bit like family.

  
  


*

  
  


"How fucked up do you want to get tonight?" Renjun asks. He's back from the dead — composition midterm complete, project well through preliminary stages. The calendar that hangs in their kitchen has multiple year end dates pencilled in to it and Donghyuck is starting to realise he's actually going to have to attempt to plan his time out — between multiple parties, fall formal, Jeno's first real wrestling match of the year, and Jaemin dragging them along to the winter production suddenly he feels like his free weekends are being eaten up by some kind of eldritch time demon.

Right now it's Halloween weekend, which means it's one of the biggest nights of the year — a no-strings-attached excuse for them to get absolutely wasted and wake up in a stranger's broom closet — and he's actually looking forward to it. They’d planned group costumes a few weeks ago, and though Donghyuck had argued until his face was red, his role in their ‘Toy Story’ ensemble was, naturally, Woody. Renjun was Buzz Lightyear (his costume mostly made out of beer boxes), Jaemin Mr. Potato Head, and Jeno a very green T-Rex.

They're sitting in the living room, surrounded by the mess of their pregame ritual — empty Soju bottles and shot glasses drooling all over the glass surface of the coffee table, a few of Jaemin's craft beers and a torn open packet of juul pods. Jaemin and Jeno have already left, but Renjun had wanted to drink more and Donghyuck had stayed behind with him.

“How about we see if you can’t make me forget my own name?” Donghyuck says. He’d neglected, in the planning stage of this costume, to mention he was familiar with cowboy getup, not wanting to draw even more use of Renjun’s rather sticky ‘yeehaw’ nickname, but he _was_ wearing his own boots — if he was getting wasted and passing out, he wanted his shoes to be comfortable at least.

“Pretty sure Yeehaw is ingrained into your blood,” Renjun says with a snicker. Donghyuck elbows him and Renjun continues. “Well. Obviously Scream Team are having a party but — KASA are too, or I can get us into CSA if you want. Though you'll never win at beer pong if you’re at the CSA house. They definitely do have the best drinks though. You know Jun Wen? He’s in CSA — won the state junior bartender competition when he was in undergrad. He’ll be on bar tonight before he gets shitfaced."

Donghyuck does not know Jun Wen, but he nods along anyway.

"Well. Maybe we should start with CSA first for the drinks. But shouldn't I be with all y'all?" Donghyuck asks. "Since I'm a pledge?"

"Who fucking cares," Renjun throws up a hand. His words are a little slurred and his cheeks are starting to shine red. He’s had about as much to drink as Donghyuck, but without the advantage of alpha metabolism it’s hitting him much harder. "As long as you're with me it's fine,” he continues. “I love Felix, don't get me wrong, but I don't know why Kun even bothered giving you a big when you're living with all of us."

"Tradition? Maybe he wants me to have friends which aren’t you idiots,” Donghyuck says. Neglects to mention he already does have other friends, mostly just to dig at Renjun.

“Kun loves us. Well, me and Jeno. I think he might strangle Jaemin one day. But Taeyong’s super soft on Jaemin, so it evens out. He is a bit by the rules though, you’re right.”

There's a pause for a second, Renjun sizing up another bottle of soju, and Donghyuck scrambles to think up something to distract him, placing a large value on Renjun's ability to walk in a straight line at least for their initial outing.

"Which party do you think Jaemin and Jeno are going to?" Donghyuck asks, hesitant. He's not particularly drunk, just kind of buzzing, enough that the night feels loose and free.

"Jaemin's with the scream team. He's got his little to keep an eye on — that squirt Taehyun. Jeno has Jisung too, but I think he's planning to drag him along. You know — I don't know why they're so glued together, though. It's kind of gross."

"You don't think they're..?" Donghyuck lets the sentence trail off. He's noticed Jaemin and Jeno being a bit more than handsy with each other, but had just written it off with the fact that Jaemin was obscenely touchy and Jeno was mostly pliant. Honestly — it still kind of shocks Donghyuck how much Jeno is willing to put up with. The fact that he's basically a 160 pound chunk of optimised alpha muscle whose whole life revolves around throwing people onto the ground seems at odds with his tendency to drape himself over anyone who comes near him. He's essentially a dog begging for belly rubs. To Donghyuck the idea of physically making himself so open to attack makes him reel, but to Jeno it seems to be a norm.

No wonder he and Jaemin have gotten along for so long.

It's still a struggle for Donghyuck to not want to scent the whole house. There's been no discussion about it, but it seems to be an unwritten rule that none of them have claimed the space with anything more than residual scent. He can guess why — the territorial fights would probably be vicious, and moreover the alpha scents would stink to Renjun, who by now he knows holds the most sway in the household.

To most betas alphas just smelled like sweat and dirt with the faintest overtones of their actual scent — and he couldn't even imagine what living with that stink every day would be like. Along with the pheromone dose of 'I own this'' that scenting came with, it would have made their living situation a lot more tense.

It does give Donghyuck some wry amusement that in a house of three alphas it was the beta that was dictating things.

"Do I think they're fucking?" Renjun asks, eyebrow arched.

Donghyuck shrugs. “You know them better than me. But I’m pretty sure I smelled Jeno’s scent all over Jaemin last week.”

“Jeno does that,” Renjun says. “He scents his cuddle buddies. But I don’t think they’re fucking. Jaemin is an alpha chaser through and through, but I don’t think Jeno is his type. They’re just close.”

An alpha chaser. Donghyuck files that one away for later. He hadn’t picked Jaemin to be the sort, though he supposed someone’s personality often correlated less to what they acted in bed than most people thought. People didn’t pick him as an alpha fucker either — or an alpha for that matter, considering his general non-athleticism and smaller stature. It was their loss, really. Donghyuck enjoyed being deceptive, though there were times it frustrated him — but any other alpha who tried to boss him around would soon find teeth at their throat. If there was one thing his daddy had taught him it was that no-one would push him around.

“Plus, I don’t think Jaemin’s the type to date within the house,” Renjun finishes. He picks up an empty shot glass and sets it down right side up. “CSA first, then?”

Donghyuck shrugs and picks up his cowboy hat. “Sure.”

  
  


*

  
  


CSA house is fifteen minutes from theirs — a cut through a park and jumping of a fence, the hardest part of the journey being successfully navigating bands of middle schoolers dressed up like Fortnite characters. One of them argues with Renjun about what he’s dressed up as and Donghyuck has to drag him away before he uppercuts a child.

“He thought I was Thor! I’m purple! Why would I be Thor?” Renjun whines. Donghyuck is pretty good at soothing his ego by now, even if it does involve the unnecessary trashing of a child. He's not here to be moral, anyway. Kids are fucking annoying. And Renjun's costume is actually pretty great, for being shoestring budget.

The CSA house is heard before it’s seen — the loudest house on a street of loud houses, each of them blasting a different flavour of EDM or trap, front lawns spilling with patrons in various states of undress and way too many animal ears. At the CSA house someone is hanging off the balcony and someone else is pouring a beer into their mouth through a funnel, and he can hear chanting coming from somewhere inside, the old college mantra of ‘Do it! Do it!’ repeated until it erupts into cheers. The door is answered by a girl who can’t be more than five foot tall, midriff exposed, bunny ears on her head, panties clearly visible through her sheer stockings, silver tips of her hair completely fried and sticking up with frizz. She’s holding a plastic cup and eyes them warily, tongue in her cheek as she asks: “Who do you know?”

“I’m Renjun Huang,” Renjun says. The girl rolls her eyes.

“Okay. Who do you know here, Renjun Huang?”

“Jun? Minghao? Yuqi? Ring any fucking bells?” Renjun says, his tone getting increasingly more annoyed with each named listed.

“Chill out,” she says, rolled eyes again. She turns around and screams Yuqi’s name, turns back to them and smiles, thin lipped and tight. “A bunch of fuckwads tried to crash about an hour ago, so I’m just following the rules.” She looks Renjun. “What the fuck’s your costume, anyway?”

“Buzz Lightyear,” he says. The end of his sentence rises as he yells over the music and Donghyuck's alpha instincts start to twitch — a drunk Renjun is one who likes to fight, and he's not particularly planning on getting thrown out of a party before he even enters.

“More like Bud Lightyear.”

Donghyuck grabs the back of Renjun's collar and yanks him like a dog on a chain, just as a girl in teetering heels and an ensemble of almost entirely pink — tank top and short skirt, body glitter on her chest, stars on her cheeks, hair done up into two buns that turn to pigtails — shows up in the doorframe.

"Well, well," she says, laughing. "Glad to see someone's got him on a leash." She glances down at the bunny girl and waves her away. "It's fine, I know him."

"Buzz Lightyear, right?" Yuqi asks as she leads them through the packed living room, past a group of Spiderman costumes playing a herd of Marios in Smash Bros, two girls balanced on a stool drinking from each other's hands, some kind of drinking game that looked too complex for Donghyuck to fully understand, and people hanging off every surface — straight through to the kitchen. There's pulsing lights everywhere and bodies that he keeps bumping into, and everyone who he makes eye contact with hits him with a 'howdy' that he feels compelled to return, much to Renjun's amusement.

There's a steady buzz of mixed languages in the air — Donghyuck can only recognise half the words, and Renjun and Yuqi are talking in Mandarin, Yuqi's laughter coming with her head thrown back, pink lipstick smeared all over her skin visible in the party lighting. Donghyuck feels a pang of jealousy, sharpened when Yuqi squeezes the ass of a girl they pass — hand sized hoop earrings, peroxide blonde short hair — and receives a grin and lick of the lips back in return.

In the kitchen the countertop is coated in a rainbow of drinks and snacks, glasses in various states of fill, alcohol bottles labelled in Chinese with red marker, discarded shirts used as mopping rags. There's a small line to get to where two guys in cat ears are mixing drinks, and they join the end of it.

"So who are you?" Yuqi asks, in English, sizing up Donghyuck with a rake of her eyes over his body. There's a grit to her voice that surprises him — one that follows an idle wondering of what her presentation was.

"Donghyuck. I live with Renjun."

"Oooo, you're the new one," she says. "Yeehaw, right?"

Donghyuck shoots a look at Renjun, who grins back at him and mines tipping an invisible cowboy hat.

"Right," Donghyuck nods with a roll of the eyes.

"And you picked CSA for your Halloween party? You trying to make up for not joining us, Renjun?"

"You already know why I didn't join. The only passes I wanted were passes in my class. Not passing out in a ditch." Renjun says, Yuqi echoing him and then laughing. He flicks a piece of gold confetti off his shoulder. "Obviously priorities have changed but, you can't fault me."

"You act like you're so unfun," Yuqi says. "Donghyuck, don't listen to him. He's the life of the party, last year on winter retreat he went snowboarding down the side of the mountain on a fucking oak door. We didn't even have to convince him of anything — he just did it."

"I was shitfaced," Renjun says.

"Yes!" Yuqi raises a finger. "But you totally would have done it sober too! It's not our fault that you get drunk so easily because you're —"

She's cut off with a glare from Renjun, jaw clicking shut.

"Because he's what?" Donghyuck asks. Renjun shakes his head, but Donghyuck is stopped from probing by the line moving forward and the three of them arriving at what, up close, is actually an impressive home bar setup. The boy serving them is stupid hot — Donghyuck's starting to get suspicious about how many of Renjun's friends are drop dead gorgeous (Yuqi, too, is stunning) — and has whiskers painted on his face, along with a little bell on his collar, sleeves of his shirt cut off and black jeans hugging his long legs. 

"Renjun," he says, twirling a cocktail mixer in his hand. "And here I thought I wouldn't be graced with your presence."

"I'd never neglect visiting you!" Renjun says. "You're my best gege, Jun."

Jun grins, toothy, and gestures to the gleaming bottles of alcohol behind him. "Missed you at the September party. What do you want?"

"What's popular?" Renjun asks, scratching his chin. "I was busy with Scream Team stuff, you know how it is."

"He _hates_ us," Yuqi says. In the other room someone screams, ear splitting and shrill, followed by a roar of laughter. "Oh shit, I think that's Chaeyoung," she shouts, and peels away from them, heels clacking against the floorboards, a faint trail of glitter left in her wake.

"I know you hate us," Jun smirks. He reaches behind him for a label-less bottle and yells something in Chinese to the other guy, who hands over another bottle filled with something bright green. "But it really is always good to see you, Renjun. You need to stop by more."

"I know," Renjun says. "Is that absinthe?"

"This?" Jun holds up the green bottle. "Nah, it's just vodka coloured green. Minghao’s been making frog shots with it,” he says, surrounding ‘frog shots’ in air quotes. “Do you want absinthe? We have some."

"I'd rather stay off the floor before midnight hits," Renjun says. "This is Donghyuck, by the way."

Donghyuck smiles at Jun and receives a wink in return.

"Renjun been singing my praises?"

"Something of the sort," Donghyuck says. Jun preens as he pours out a shot of the green vodka, clearly feeding on the compliment.

"Glad someone does. I'm so underappreciated around here."

There's a shout from the other side of the kitchen. "Bullshit!"

Renjun lets out a snort of laughter. "What do you want, Donghyuck?"

It puts him on the spot a little, because he doesn't really know much about drinks — generally is happy to take whatever is thrown in front of his face. There's the option of just copying Renjun's drink — but he also doesn't trust anything that shade of green after _actually_ drinking absinthe in sophomore year and ending up in half naked in a tree on the opposite side of campus. "Uh. Sex on the Beach?"

Renjun stiffens up, wide eyed, and looks away with a cough.

"It's a drink!" Donghyuck says, just as Jun winks and says —"Well, all you needed to do was ask."

"I am not having sex on the beach," Donghyuck says. "I don't want sand in my asshole. You ever heard of a dick rash? I knew a couple who had sex out on a farm back home and the guy got poison ivy all over his dick. We were not made to fuck in nature."

The look of horror he receives from both Jun and Renjun is worth the recall of the memory — causes Renjun to upend his shot as soon as he receives it and ask for another one immediately. Jun — like an alcoholic fairy godmother — grants his wish, and the two of them forge back into the swarm of bodies on the floor with considerably more alcohol in their bellies, drinks in hand. In the corner of the dance area Renjun swaps their drinks with a grin — then swallows Donghyuck's whole, forcing Donghyuck to slam back the shot that Jun had made — something that sears his throat and manages to taste bright green at the same time.

"What the fuck was that?" he asks. Renjun shrugs. They basically have to yell directly into each other's ears to communicate, and with Renjun's increasing loss of grip on sobriety he's getting a little bit of spittle sprayed into his hair.

"It's probably something new he's trying out."

"It tasted like colours!"

"I told you! He's an innovator. Minghao likes frogs — it'll be his birthday shot."

"Do you get a birthday shot?"

Renjun grins at him, wild eyes. The music thumps with peppy synths and Renjun flattens their bodies together, cardboard chest piece rubbing against his shirt.

"I get birthday kisses," he says. Dark, thick as blood in his mouth, sparkles of pop music hanging in the air. His fingers trail down Donghyuck's arm and then he's leaving — Donghyuck's wrist in his grip, dragging him elsewhere, into another dizzying buzz of conversation. More people who know Renjun — more people to meet Donghyuck. Other music majors — a guy doing production, another doing his doctorate. Someone's brother. Mandarin slipping into English, sentences half and half. Drink after drink — sat at a table playing king's cup. Renjun picks Donghyuck as his mate on the first round and the two of them go blow for blow — until Donghyuck pulls the last king and is forced to slam back the dirty concoction of whiskey, plum wine and what is almost certainly some kind of cheap beer mixed up in the middle.

When it's time to leave they don't even attempt to make it to the KASA house, mostly on account of Renjun’s stumbling and slurring — whatever was in the shots Jun had given him was hitting _hard._ Instead they go straight for Alpha Epsilon Alpha, following a general trail of snapped heels and party debris until the sound guides them home. In the streetlights the black walls look a little less terrifying and little more nightclub chic, though the effect is largely ruined by the fact that someone has gone all out with Halloween decorations. There's a pair of skeletons dancing on the front lawn amongst pumpkin shaped lights, cobwebs hanging from every surface and neon spiderwebs in the windows. Fog drifts out of the door, and as they climb the front steps it becomes apparent it's coming from a cauldron that someone is ladelling jungle juice out of.

"Oh, that's so good!" Renjun says, clinging on to him as they stop in the entranceway. "Oh, I need to talk to Kun. That's sooo good!"

"Mind explaining?" Donghyuck asks. Renjun hangs off him, all pretty and wide eyed, half his costume discarded in the CSA house, purple paint smudged all over his collarbones. The collar of his shirt is ripped and pulled apart and there's so much skin bared that Donghyuck can't help but stare, following the line of his clavicle, enamoured in the shine of his skin under the party lights.

"It’s the pledges. Taehyun — Jaemin's boy! He's chem. Told him to get us a box of dry ice and he delivered! Look at that!" He gestures to the fog floating along the floor. "Now that's moody! Environmental!"

"Alright," Donghyuck says, laughter on the tip of his tongue. He doesn't know Taehyun that well, but the idea of the kid snatching something from the chemistry department didn't seem too far fetched. "And you want me to find Kun for you?"

"Noooo," Renjun says, voice trailing off. The temperature inside is at least 15 degrees more than the street outside and Donghyuck can feel it begin to swell around him in time with the heavy bass beat. "Don't leave me.”

"Well, I was going to take you with me."

"Take me with you! That’s a better idea!"

Donghyuck's no stranger to looking after drunk betas — has had plenty of experience with it in high school and sophomore year — but with Renjun it's different. He's not entirely sure why — maybe the newness of the situation. The way Renjun holds himself against Donghyuck's side — not just his arms around his waist but his whole body pressed up against him, like he's attached to him. He’s stiff at first, but quickly he realises it’s fine. It’s comfortable. 

He picks up a cup of something that smells like sweetened floor cleaner from Jungwoo (and something lighter for Renjun, who sways a little as he takes the solo cup from the counter) and leads Renjun upstairs, half searching for somewhere to sit and half searching for wherever the fuck Jaemin and Jeno have gone.

They’ve hit the point in the night where the blackout shades have started to descend on people’s brains, and walking through the house becomes a litmus test for alphas — where Donghyuck can guess that everyone drunk enough to be gazing off into the distance or laughing too loud for the enclosed space was either a beta or an omega. He almost envies them — the ability to get drunk off anything less than a considerable portion of hard liquor is surely a blessing in disguise. Cheaper, too. He wonders if omega frats have cheaper dues to make up for the proportionally smaller amounts of alcohol they’d have to drink to get absolutely shitfaced. 

The music is coming from the upstairs stereo, and as soon as the two of them get off the landing (past a couple practically dry humping against a plaster bust of some long dead philosopher) it slams into Donghyuck’s face, a wall of sound like rattles his teeth and makes his insides vibrate with bass.

“That’s loud!” Renjun says, helpful, as they pick through the main dancefloor. Donghyuck’s headed outside in hopes that it’s less ear shatteringly loud — and because by any stroke of luck Jaemin is probably vaping with Changbin on the deck, watching the drunk comic book characters try climb the swingset.

The theme of the night seems to be never quite making it to their destination, of course. Donghyuck downs his drink when he’s caught in a conversation with one of the senior members — mostly spends the entire time trying to remember the guy’s name and shooting Renjun increasingly panicked looks. They escape to the next room and it’s there he finds Jisung — lying on his back on top of the pool table. He’s wearing a bright red ‘party girl’ hat and spandex hot pants and his flamingo pink tank top is wet with what Donghyuck can only hope is beer — but knows is probably something much harder. Someone hits the 8 ball off his chest and the crowd surrounding the table cheers, shouts swelling as the ball rolls into a pocket and Jisung is swept off the table to be carried around like a hero.

This is how Donghyuck ends up on a sticky leather couch in a frat house, a very drunk Jisung sitting on his lap like an oversized golden retriever, Renjun on his right side with his arms thrown around his waist, a gaggle of freshmen to his left. Renjun keeps exercising his seniority to get one of the pledges — a kid with a bright smile wearing a Christmas ornament taped to his headband and tinsel that’s mostly on the floor at this point — to bring them drinks, and the night takes a dizzy turn, the room swimming like they’re underwater, everything shifting and immersed in a shimmering glow. The drinks stop tasting like rubbing alcohol and start tasting something more palatable, and half the words Renjun yells in his ear he doesn’t understand — half the words Jisung says, he’s sure, aren’t even English.

It’s very warm. Very warm and comfortable, the world feeling like it could drift away at any second. Jisung moves to the seat beside him and tries to match his drinks — and when it reaches the point where the slur that trails through his words becomes almost visible in his drunk brain — he takes his cup from him and tells him no more.

Just as well, because a few minutes later and Jisung is running through the house, presumably to throw up over the porch or into a pot plant he’d be forced to clean later. The tinsel pledge runs after him — almost knocks over a couple dressed like cows with their hands up each other’s shirts — and Renjun just presses himself closer to Donghyuck.

“He scented you,” Renjun says. The track has changed over — he swears it's the third time he's heard bad guy this hour — and the bass thuds like an incoming storm. Renjun takes an exaggerated sniff. “Stinky.”

“Jealous?” Donghyuck asks, because his tongue is loose and Renjun is so drunk he’s barely moving — because he doubts he’ll remember it, or that either of them will.

"You’re _my_ alpha," Renjun mumbles, pressing his face into Donghyuck's neck. He lets out a long whine and grabs at Donghyuck’s hat, pulls it from his head and starts waving it around, stirring the humid air around them. "Big dumb alpha. Stupid. Love you."

Donghyuck's entire soul seems to leap out of his body, stomach a tangled bundle of nerves. Renjun's touch on him feels hotter and he flushes in turn, goose pimples crawling across his neck where Renjun’s wet breath blooms on his skin. He's suddenly grateful that he'd basically bathed in scent suppressant before they'd left the house, because he's sure he really _would_ stink otherwise right now — and he likes having Renjun this close.

"Are you scenting me?" Donghyuck asks, realising what Renjun is doing maybe a little too late. Trying to distract himself and falling further into the trap.

"Nooo," Renjun says. "I'm sniffing you. There's a difference, right?" His head tips forward. "Just think it's unfair."

Lips brushing against his neck, sending shivers down his spine. Renjun's fingers digging into his arm, hat discarded in his lap. His hand on his stomach, music heavy and:

Fade to black.


	2. In which Donghyuck fails one of his life goals but comes up with a much bigger problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donghyuck loses his mind. 
> 
> And his boot. Just the one boot.

**Lost and Found**

hey, did anyone lose a cowboy boot? looks like it’s pretty expensive. size 9. found in a park near **** lol. message me

**Jun Wen** :  Renjun is this your friend

**Andy 지성 Park** :  Donghyuck Lee 

**Jae Min Na** :  Donghyuck PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS YOURS

**Jeno Lee** :  Donghyuck Lee 🤠

  
  


*

  
  


Donghyuck wakes up with tinsel in his mouth and something spilled down his front, shirt sticking to his skin. There's light streaming in through a window and he can hear the neighbour driving their ride on lawnmower over what he assumes must be a pile of woodchips, a constant clatter amplified by the thudding headache centered in his temples. 

He checks himself over — finds he’s still clothed and breathes a sigh of relief. Always a good start to a hangover. 

A parade of monkeys with cymbals clangs through his brain, and his entire body feels like he’s just gone ten rounds in the ring with Mike Tyson but apart from that he’s relatively fine. Not nauseous, not bleeding, as far he knows. He even knows where he is — though it takes a second for him to recognise his surroundings — feels a pang of gratefulness that he somehow managed to make it home, even if he elected to pass out on the couch instead of his own bed. 

He has a vague idea that getting up the stairs might have been an issue.

His phone is on the floor, screen dark and battery critically low. It’s unpleasantly sticky, and — after unplugging Jaemin’s fitbit — he plugs it into the wall and checks his messages. 

It’s almost four pm. He has a few texts from Jisung telling him he got home safe, one from Jaemin telling him there’s pizza in the fridge. Another from Kun, telling him to call him back when he’s not hungover. A series of increasingly cryptic snapchats from Renjun that after a minute or so of staring he realises are very blurry pictures of the wall of his room. 

He opens Facebook and quickly realises the situation of the missing boot — panics before he locates the _other_ boot — lying in the middle of the lounge along with his hat and half his costume, the end of a trail of discarded clothes and streamers. After shooting a message to the kid who’d posted about it, he switches to Instagram while he waits for a response, praying to god there’s no pictures of him in states of undress that he’s been tagged in.

  
  


*

  
  


It takes a lot of little pieces to fill him in on the last night's happenings. He’s texting back and forth with Jisung — the only person who’ll answer his messages — though it’s an exercise in futility, as Jisung’s memory is completely blank from far before they’d even arrived at the house. It’s nice to have someone to commiserate with though — Jisung texts that he’s currently sitting on the bathroom floor with a cushion and a blanket, the alcohol left in his system clearly not agreeable.

Donghyuck thinks to knock on Renjun’s door, then upon fear of being impaled by a sharp object decides against it, and makes himself a nest in the blankets of his bed again, Tylenol and aspirin ingested and his water bottle topped up again.

He’s tagged in a few pictures at the CSA house. There’s a pretty ripe one of his face when he'd lost at king's cup, one with Yuqi in an ill fated beer pong game and another of him carrying Renjun fireman style through the middle of a packed room. 

Jaemin's posts are dry pictures of his drinks — Donghyuck really has to admire his complete lack of dedication to maintaining any likeable social media presence — but it's on Changbin's story he hits the jackpot. The first picture is a typical dudebro photo, his arms slung around Jaemin and Jeno's shoulders, frat signs thrown at the camera. In the next Jeno's body paint has rubbed off onto his hands — they're bright green where they grip a shot glass tipped to his lips. Some twenty photos of drinks captioned "Halloween 👻" — and then the night’s story really begins. The blur on the pictures gets steadily more obvious, a real time effect of the drinks that Changbin had obviously been slamming down. A video of Jisung riding around on Jeno’s shoulders, chugging from a beer bottle and then screaming out a completely incorrect version of their frat chant. Kun sitting on the floor with a bright pink pair of panties on his head, looking deep in thought as he stares at a game of Jenga. Donghyuck and Renjun appear in the periphery somewhere around three am — then in the centre, participating in a loud chant for someone to chug. 

He takes a shot off Jaemin’s abs and then screams ‘yeehaw’ at the top of his lungs — and then the next update is the next day, a picture of what he presumes is Changbin’s sink with the caption ‘puking black’. He checks a couple more of the other Scream Team brothers’ stories, but there’s not much more info — by the time he gets to Jeno’s posts the kid with his boot has messaged him back to arrange a meet up. 

He has bright blue hair and starts to laugh when offered proof that it is indeed Donghyuck who owns the mystery boot.

“I appreciate the dedication of anyone who wants to steal a single cowboy boot,” he says, handing it over to him. “If you want it, it’s yours. Have a good weekend dude.” 

Donghyuck’s weekend plans are most just recovering, but he appreciates the sentiment. He’s still achy and when he gets home he has no desire to do anything but lie in bed for the rest of the day. Renjun wakes up later in the evening from his nap and — after Donghyuck discerns that Renjun has as much recall of the past night as he has — the two of them end up watching shitty indie movies together. The kind of boy meets boy, omega tries to take on the world coming of age films that Donghyuck eats up like candy. The kind that Renjun watches with a sparkle in his eye, and that both of them pretend they didn’t like as much as they did. 

They don't talk about the night before, apart from casual comments about the games they played — about Donghyuck's failure at beer pong and why Kun was on the floor. They certainly don't talk about Renjun's complaints about Jisung scenting him. And when Jeno comes in to ask what they want from Shake Shack and mentions that Donghyuck smells like he's soaked in omega pheromones — and Renjun balks and looks the other way.

They don't talk about that either.

  
  


*

  
  


Donghyuck’s early finish on Fridays lines up perfectly with the end of Jisung’s three hour combined slog of Chinese 101 and Shakespearian Literature, and every afternoon the two of them find each other in the Human sciences canteen, Jisung with a plastic bowl of ramen from the shop across the road, Donghyuck battling his constant urge to buy overpriced cookies from the bakery. His sweet tooth is a real drain on his wallet.

Jisung pops the lid off his bowl and curses as his glasses fog up. He pushes them down his nose and unwraps his chopsticks, then starts stirring up the noodles, lips pursed tight in concentration. The canteen is busy at this time of day — it’s the perfect storm of everyone’s classes getting out but it not being late enough yet that people are considering leaving campus, — sustained on a vain hope that they’ll head to the library and study. Behind them a group of girls are discussing their bio test, and to his right someone is talking about passing out on Halloween and waking up with a new tattoo of Donald Duck on their ass.

“Who are you taking to semiformal?” Jisung asks, glancing up, stream floating in front of his face. “You’re going, aren’t you? Jeno said you were.” He pauses, picking up a few noodles. “I think.”

Donghyuck hasn’t thought about semiformal since — well since he asked his date. It’d been a few weeks ago now, in the middle of exam induced madness. One of Jaemin’s friends — an electrical engineering student from Canada who Renjun was convinced was a campus cryptid. Donghyuck and Mark had gone out for boba and just _talked_ for almost six hours straight, sitting at the same table until the store had shut, then sitting in the back of Donghyuck’s pickup, then finally, _finally_ parting on campus — an eerie repeat of his adventure with Jisung, complete with Mark forgetting his keycard and almost having to call up campus security. Donghyuck had texted Jisung instead — who was still up playing Overwatch — and he’d let him in. 

Donghyuck had asked him the next day. He’d felt the jaws of being hopelessly single and new to town closing around his neck, and had shot his shot to a surprisingly easy yes from Mark. There’d been some hesitation — Mark wasn’t into the greek life at all — but at Donghyuck’s insistence he’d been soothed, and now Donghyuck had a date. An omega date — Renjun had raised his eyebrows and whistled. It was a good look for the frat, apparently. Made them look less like alpha boneheads.

“I’m going,” Donghyuck says. He scratches at a spot of red paint on the table. “Going with one of Jaemin’s friends. The one you let into the hall at like. Two am.”

“Oh? Mark?” Jisung seems surprised, straightens up a little and pulls the sagging sleeve of his t-shirt back up from where it’s slipping down his shoulder. A noodle drops from his chopstick. “He’s my RA.”

“He’s your _RA_? And he lost his keycard?”

Jisung nods. “He gave me his number after that to let him in if he lost it again, actually. Apparently it happens a lot.”

“Have they considered microchipping him?”

Jisung lets out snort and shoves a thin slice of meat into his mouth.

"I'll have to bring it up. You guys get along, huh? Do you like him?"

It's Donghyuck's turn to laugh.

"I mean. We talked for a good six hours. I felt my social life fading before my eyes before that so it was more like picking the first person who wasn't a brother and wasn't likely to make me consider drinking until I dropped."

"So you like him?"

"Not like that. I think he deserves to be on the list of people I tolerate. It's pretty exclusive."

"Oh. Right. I'm on that list too, right?"

"You're like. A step above that list."

Jisung gives him a blinding smile before shoving a mouthful of ramen into his mouth.

“Who are you taking, then?” Donghyuck asks. Jisung nods, holds up his hand while rapidly chewing.

“One of my friends! He’s super cool!”

“Do I know him?” 

Donghyuck doesn’t know many of Jisung’s friends outside of their Scream Team brothers — just the few he’s met while running into him after class, or when he’s picked him up to go out with him and been forced to socialise with them for a few minutes. They’re mostly not that bad, just remind him of his younger years, when the weariness of college hadn’t settled on him and he hadn’t start to panic under the looming reality of what the fuck he was supposed to do after he graduated. He knows he still has a good year and a half before it really hits him but — still. He’s envious of having that much time in front of him. 

“Umm,” Jisung chews on the side of his cheek while he thinks, face scrunching up like he’s going through each individual memory of his conversations with Donghyuck. “I don’t think so? His name’s Chenle. We’ve been Twitter mutuals for like. A year. He’s funny.”

“Twitter mutuals,” Donghyuck echoes. Despite the comparatively tiny age gap between him and Jisung he can still literally feel himself hurtling towards the grave. 

“Yeah,” Jisung nods.

“You’re taking your Twitter mutual to the semiformal?”

Jisung shrugs. “He’s cool. I asked Jeno and he said it was fine. We’re not like dating or anything — by the way — but he’s like mostly involved with the other international students so I thought it would be good to, you know, get him to come meet my friends and have some fun? You know how it’s kind of cliquey with them right?”

“Oh my god,” Donghyuck says. “I mean, sure. Alright. You’re an interesting fellow, you know that Jisung?”

“I am?”

Donghyuck laughs and resists the urge to pinch Jisung’s cheek — he looks beyond adorable, perpetually swimming in his clothes, glasses smudged with fingerprints, bangs dropping over his eyes. 

“Taking your Twitter mutual to the semiformal? Yeah, I reckon.” 

Jisung blushes and ducks his head. Someone walks past them carrying a giant beach umbrella and Donghyuck catches the end of it just before it swings into his head, raises his eyebrows at the girl carrying it and receives an apologetic smile in return.

“I guess,” Jisung says. “Umm. That reminds me. I need to go talk to my tutor for Chinese, actually. We have a vocab test like next week and I still don’t understand tones properly. Like I think I’m doing okay but I’m not sure, you know? Chenle’s been helping me but he has a big exam coming up soon and I’m just I don’t want to bother him but—” he pauses. “Sorry. Yeah.”

“And now you’re trying to get rid of me?” 

“No!” Jisung’s eyes go wide. “Not at all! I’m just telling you that I need to go soon. Like, that’s okay right?”

“That’s okay,” Donghyuck says, laughing. “I’m just joshing. Go be a good student. I’ll probably just go home or something. Enjoy free time without Jaemin while I have it.”

Jisung nods, picking through the few soggy noodles left in his bowl in search of meat like a scavenger.

“Okay! Cool! Send me a message if you’re going out, right? Or like, whatever? Are we still catching up Sunday?”

“Probably?” Donghyuck says. They’d organised to drive out Sunday morning to LA, fully intent on making that beach trip that Jaemin had talked about a reality, and Donghyuck was kind of looking forward to it. He’d never been to LA — had only been to a beach a couple of times in his life — and despite Renjun’s insistence that it wasn’t that great, he wasn’t letting that put a damper on his excitement. What was the point of going somewhere new if you didn’t see all the sights? 

What was the point of moving halfway across the country if he didn’t try new things?

  
  


*

  
  


Jisung leaves in a typical flurry upon realising he only has twenty minutes in which he needs to walk to the languages building and pray he’s not the only person who needs homework help. Donghyuck chooses to hang around for a while yet, sitting outside and enjoying the sunshine before he goes back to where he’d parked his truck and heads home. Jeno’s car is in the driveway and he finds the door is unlocked, but it doesn’t mean too much — he often goes for walks around the block for no reason. Renjun is likely home, either asleep or tinkering away in his studio, making use of his day off to try to catch up on work or bowing at the mercy of another burst of unbridled creative energy.

The first thing that Donghyuck notices when he pushes the door open is the smell. It’s like someone has been baking — something delicious that makes his mouth water. Deep, rich chocolate, tinged with something dark — patchouli maybe. Vanilla bean, ground up into dust and scattered across sunbaked clay. It reminds him of the stupid candle his brother had bought from a flea market once, one of those things that was supposed to smell like your soulmate’s scent but really just was all the good smells they could find bundled into one, generic but specific enough that each person would smell something different.

It’s delicious, whatever it is. He drops his bag in the living room and pokes his head into the kitchen, expecting to see Jaemin donned up in an apron with flour on his face, caught in one of his Pinterest frenzies. Instead it’s empty — a few plates left on the bench, dishwasher cracked open, cookie box beside the sink. Donghyuck helps himself to a few thin mints and puts them back in the cupboard, pausing to pick at a half price sticker attached to the wood. The smell doesn’t seem to be coming from anywhere in particular — the oven isn’t on and there’s no signs of baking. 

“Anyone home?” he calls out, pausing in front of the fridge and considering if he’s still hungry after grabbing In-N-Out on the way home. His tongue still feels kind of greasy. Probably not. He’ll save his leftovers for later.

There’s a muffled bang upstairs — Renjun’s studio door being opened too fast, broken doorstop clattering and door handle smacking into the makeshift bracket Renjun had made. Why he didn’t fix it Donghyuck didn’t know, though he’d learned at this point not to question Renjun’s chaotic thought process. He understood his own reasoning, and that was enough.

“I am!”

Jeno. Guess he hadn’t left after all.

“Come upstairs?”

“What if I don’t want to?” Donghyuck says, more focused on the shopping list someone has affixed to the corkboard than Jeno right now. Is that Jaemin’s handwriting? Is it really _that bad?_ Donghyuck can barely read hangul as it is, but whatever ingredients Jaemin has added are nigh indecipherable. 

“Please come upstairs? It’s important.”

There’s a tone to Jeno’s voice that makes him stop and reconsider — though it takes him a second to recognise it, because he’s never heard Jeno use it before. A bleed through of his alpha voice. Almost unintentional, like it had been pulled out of him. On the verge of something.

"Okay..." Donghyuck says. "Everything okay?"

"Yes. Kind of."

It's with a mix of curiosity and hesitancy he mounts the stairs, each thud of his feet on the carpet resonating in his ears. The smell is stronger up here — and the air feels thicker. Like Donghyuck can barely breathe, his head dizzy.

"Did y'all open a portal to an alternate universe full of Keebler elves?" Donghyuck asks, though smile dies on his face when he sees Jeno waiting for him, leaning on the doorframe. There's something strained in his brow, in the thin line he presses his lips into. 

God, did someone forget to open the windows? It's so stuffy.

"Here," Jeno says, tilting his head to indicate that Donghyuck should follow.

Renjun's studio isn't particularly large — it's mostly occupied by his drumkit and synth, the latter covered in stickers from a local bar. There's a desk where his laptop normally sits and old show posters on the walls, and at the far end the door that opens out onto the back balcony is shut, blind pulled halfway down. A few plants in surprisingly healthy condition sit at either end of a black pullout couch — and it's there that Donghyuck sees Renjun — lying face down, ice packs piled on his back, stripped to his boxers and his undershirt. There's a very obvious tan lines on the back of his thighs that Donghyuck tries hard not to stare at — though he doesn't need to exercise his willpower for long as what Jeno says next is essentially a sucker punch.

"He's in heat." 

He turns to stare at Jeno, expecting him to say that he was just joking. When he finds his face stoic it's like another fist to his gut, and suddenly everything recontextualises. 

The smell. The smell is Renjun of course. Mouthwatering, as he should be. Laced with pheromones that make Donghyuck's entire body — his entire self, really — lean in to him. That makes something in his gut stir.

He covers his face and takes a breath, letting it out in a sigh that doesn't even begin to say how huge the bomb that Jeno had just dropped was.

"What?" 

"He's in heat," Jeno repeats. Renjun groans and peels his face off the fabric to look up at Donghyuck. He looks like shit — bright red, sweat shining on his forehead.

"Donghyuck. Thank fucking god," Renjun says. "Hi, and thank god. Come here. I told you I could smell him. He smells so strong, Jeno. I can't believe you never notice it."

"Sorry I'm not looking to sniff other alphas. Sue me. Jaemin's the only one who doesn't smell like he's gonna three rounds in the mud, usually."

"I'm not saying it's voluntary. I'm saying you can't avoid smelling him."

Jeno rolls his eyes and gives Donghyuck a look like 'I know, right?'.

"I seem to avoid it just fine," he says. 

"You can smell me?" Donghyuck asks. He's self conscious — he's usually diligent about applying scent blockers, but Renjun being able to notice just when he'd entered the house meant they were doing a terrible job. Maybe it was time to switch brands — and by switching brands he meant using Jeno's.

"It's heightened now but in general? Yes, I can smell you," Renjun says. 

Heightened. Omega in heat. Ha ha. Holy shit.

He kicks himself for not guessing, figures his alpha instinct must be well and truly off to not even smell the fact there was an omega in the house. One who clearly wasn't on suppressants. The whole house should have stunk. But it didn’t, which meant Renjun knew how to cover his tracks. Maybe Donghyuck should ask him what brand he was using, because it's clearly fucking good. 

Donghyuck knows that fundamentally it shouldn’t make a difference, that Renjun is still the same person he’d thought him to be when he thought he was a beta. There's absolutely nothing changed about him, and yet he has to force himself to still see him the same. Last year Donghyuck took a whole paper about omegas in literature. It had mostly been readings from stuffy old novels that made him want to fall asleep in class (aided by the fact the professor literally never opened the window) — but there had been interesting parts in there. Discussions about how males were prized for their rarity (and women were declared witches — fucking typical). How religions had worshipped them, carrying the belief that they, and female alphas, were the gods' images made whole. People had gone to war over omegas, razed entire countries to claim them.

As it is, staring at Renjun lying on the couch, feeling the heat blowing off his skin and breathing his scent — Donghyuck begins to understand. He didn't even know he had this in him — this strange feral instinct, this base reaction that makes him want to claim Renjun then and there. But he understands now how someone could be driven mad. How an omega could stop a war — or start one. Why people thought they came from the heavens, why they held divine power.

Renjun quirks his lips and reaches down to pick up his water bottle from the floor. He sits up, ice packs shifted to his front, shirt dark with sweat 

“Well. Sorry to spring this on you Donghyuck. My heats are usually a bit more predictable, but this one apparently didn’t want to behave.”

“When were you due, anyway?” Jeno asks. He's sitting next to him, hand on his arm

"Next week” Renjun says. A drop of condensation falls from the ice pack held over his forehead, lands on his skin and dribbles down the side of his face. Donghyuck hates that he thinks he looks good like this — that the hot flush on his skin makes something stir within him. It’s not like he’s ever been ignoring the fact that Renjun is attractive (Renjun is really attractive) but now it just feels amplified. Maybe something had drawn Donghyuck to him from the start.

“Geeze,” Jeno says. He rests the knuckles of his free hand against his closed eyes and blows out a long breath. “Jaemin’s like. Easily forty minutes away. He walked from the frat house today.”

Renjun groans. “It’s fine, right? I mean, we already talked about it.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I can text him again if you want just to make sure.”

Donghyuck has no fucking clue what they’re talking about — he’s not even sure they know he’s in the same room. Renjun waves a hand in dismissal at Jeno and groans.

“Yeah, probably best. You know how fickle he is.”

“Oh, trust me, I do. Do you want him to get you anything while he’s out?”

“Pepsi and a bag of ice?”

“Well, the ice is a given.” 

Jeno chews on the end of his pointer finger as he texts, phone screen reflected in his glasses. “Anything else?” he asks. Renjun shakes his head and then his eyes shift to Donghyuck. There’s something behind them. Nerves, maybe? Something sparkling. Something he hasn’t seen in Renjun. 

“Well. You're here now. Might as well get it over with. I’ve got something to ask of you.”

He’s unsure if he likes the tone of voice Renjun’s using — it’s controlled but there’s an edge of desperation, like he’s about to fall to his knees and beg. Donghyuck’s stomach lurches, and the idea of knotting inside Renjun flashes through his mind, just for a second.

“Okay,” he says.

He already knows. He already fucking knows. He’s watched porn about this, jerked off in the middle of the night thinking about this exact scenario. An omega goes into heat and they just need someone to fuck them through it, and oh wow, Donghyuck is the only alpha around. Except he’s not the only alpha here, he realises. There’s three of them. Do they spin a wheel? Flip a coin? Does Renjun usually hook up with people instead? Are they proposing Donghyuck be his hook-up for this heat?

It all flashes through his head in a fraction of a second, and Donghyuck feels arousal jolt through him, an explosion of molten butterflies in his stomach.

Renjun throws his head back, neck exposed, and groans. It doesn’t help in the slightest.

“How the fuck do I explain this. Okay. So. In case you were lobotomised or something — don’t look at me like that, you’re an alpha, you’re all stupid as fuck — I’m an omega.” He holds up his hand, cutting off any retort from Donghyuck’s end. “We were going to tell you, I swear. It just kind of never came up. But we were always going to tell you.”

“It ain't really my business,” Donghyuck says, even though in any other circumstances he would have wanted to know that there was an omega who went into heat in the house.

Renjun’s throat bobs as he swallows and Donghyuck feels something feral crawl up inside of him. “Yeah. Well. I have a medical condition. Essentially, my heats are fucked up, and they can’t find a suppressant that works for me. I can take emergency medication when they come but my body just becomes resistant and they’re running out of options for what works, so I’m kind of trying to limit that avenue. While I’m still young we figured it’s better to let nature take its course. So Jeno and Jaemin help me out instead.”

“Help you out,” Donghyuck echoes. He knows. But he needs to hear it. Glances to Jeno, who’s bright red.

“Do you really need me to say it?” Renjun says. “They knot me, okay.” He throws a hand in the air. “Birds and the bees, all that shit. They help me through my heat. Both of them. At the same time, usually. I know it sounds like a bad porno, but my heats are intense. It takes multiple knots usually. One person can do it with the pheromones of course but it's just easier to share. And it's good sex, if you're into that."

Donghyuck is definitely into that. 

"Twice is usually enough. Sometimes things get fucked up but that's for another day, anyway. We wanted to ask if you would want to help, too."

It's the weirdest gangbang invitation he's ever heard. The weirdest house bonding activity. Game nights, pizza parties, getting drunk on the back porch — and every three months they have an orgy when the house omega goes into heat.

He can't just say yes, can he? How insanely desperate would that look — ten minutes flat from finding out Renjun was an omega to saying yes to knotting him. But the thing is that Donghyuck knows he doesn't have time to play shy. Renjun's about to lose his fucking mind at any minute. He can't umm and ahh. 

"No pressure," Renjun says. "You can leave if you want. Jeno will text you when we're done."

"It's just a lot to take in."

Renjun laughs, strained. "I know. I knew it'd be hard to explain to you, but it's just the easiest way for me. I get a bit—" he pauses and lets out another groan, body arching and shaking. Another blast of his scent, and Donghyuck feels it hit him, feels it swallow him. Jeno's eyes are dark.

"Oh, fuck," Renjun says. "Yeah. It's starting to hit. Fuck. I get a bit needy. I like having people there."

"He's really clingy," Jeno says.

Great.

"Okay."

The air is as heavy as a sauna, thick with the tension of the entire situation. Donghyuck's agreement cuts through it, drops like a body into a lake, like something thrown overboard. 

"Okay?" Renjun says. Another flash of something hot, sweat prickling along his spine, arousal stirring in his gut. Donghyuck nods.

"I'll do it."

"Thank you," Renjun says. It makes him reconsider just for a second what he's getting into, before the haze descends on his mind again.

"Where's Jaemin," Renjun adds, eyes sliding over to where Jeno is staring at his phone.

“He's waiting for Jaehyun,” Jeno says. "He'll give him a lift."

“Dumbass,” Renjun groans. When he moves the sheen on his skin is obvious — a circle of sweat forms on the front of his shirt — and it makes something kick within Donghyuck.

“Do you want to wait?” Jeno asks. Renjun flops onto his back, one hand on the ice pack on his forehead and the other unfurling to stretch across the back of the couch.

“I genuinely don’t give a shit, Jeno. I wanted this over as soon as it started. I was supposed to be going out with Yuqi tonight but now I’m stuck being a fucking human hotbox.”

“Okay, okay,” Jeno raises his hands. He shifts in his stance, flicks the screen of his phone on and off and then slides it back into his pocket. “Okay. Donghyuck. Like he says, you can leave if you want, any time. Things get a little—”

“Heated. Stop making that joke Jeno, it’s not funny.”

Jeno throws a cushion at Renjun and pokes his tongue out, taunting him to fight back. Renjun just sticks a hand in the air, middle finger proud. The mood in the room turns sober again. On edge.

“He’s right though,” Renjun says. His voice is even — it surprises Donghyuck, actually. He’s only ever seen a few omegas in heat outside of porn, but all of them had sounded like they could barely breathe, like they were choking up. Renjun on the other hand is as close to composed as he can get, at least in terms of how he’s speaking. His skin is flushed and red and he’s sweating all over, but his mind seems to be unaffected.

“It might take a while,” Renjun continues. "Things might get serious.”

“He went five rounds once. We thought we were going to have to go to the ER.”

“Can you imagine me turning up with an ass full of cum complaining that I’ve been fucked four times and I’m still in heat? They’d think I was a fetishist.”

“But you were. Still in heat, I mean?” Donghyuck asks.

“Yeah,” Renjun says. He shrugs. “Like I said. I have a medical condition. Why do you think I’m always hanging out around the med building? It was half the reason I choose to come here — Doctor Lee is really the only researcher in the country looking into it.”

Donghyuck has no idea what the med school here even does — generally tends to stay far away from med students after one too many times of them going feral on him for disturbing their studies. The library at the med school was, of course, the best place to study because of _how_ feral they went at anyone who so much as whispered under their breath, but sometimes he didn’t want to feel like someone was breathing down his neck when he was studying. 

“Anyway um. It’s really hitting. Really fucking starting to hit.”

Renjun’s voice cracks in the middle of the sentence and he looks up at Jeno, pleading with wide eyes.

“Okay,” Jeno says. He nods at Donghyuck. “Umm. I think I need to change the sheets on my bed anyway so we can just go there? Unless you want me to message Jaemin again, I know you like his bed, I just don’t —”

“Shut up, please. Jeno. Your room is fine. Let’s go. Let’s fucking go already.”

“Okay,” Jeno nods. “Okay, okay. Can you walk? Do you want me to carry you?”

“I can fucking _walk_ ,” Renjun snaps, breath ragged. He groans as he pushes himself up, skin unsticking from the fabric, and gives Donghyuck a reassuring but tight lipped smile.

At the front of his pants Renjun is visibly tenting, and Jeno isn’t much better. Donghyuck isn’t either — the smell is getting thicker by the minute, and it’s starting to make him dizzy. It’s so heady, so heavy, thick like liquid chocolate, dark on his tongue.

“Can you get the towels, Donghyuck? The ones in the dish soap box in the laundry cupboard. Bring them to my room. I need to change my sheets anyway."

Donghyuck nods, happy to leave the room, if only to get a breath before he absolutely loses his fucking mind.

Jesus christ. It’s all gone a little bit crazy very very quickly. From talking about semiformal with Jisung to — this. This weird scenario which seems like it’s come straight out of someone’s depraved imagination, instead of being a very real life thing. His head spins he’s gone twenty rounds on a rollercoaster and his skin is prickling, flashes of heat bursting all through his body. Heat and arousal. Holy shit, he’s turned on. It’s not like he’s even been thinking about what the act is going to be like — it’s more just a residual effect of all the scents floating around the air right now. Pinging him and telling him he’s going to be having sex. Multiple times, maybe.

He picks up the box and carries it back to Jeno’s room, nearly dropping it on his toes when he comes back through the door. 

It’s quite a sight to behold. 

Renjun is stripped of his clothes and lying on his back, completely naked, ice pack still pressed to his forehead. His cock drools against his stomach and Jeno is leaning over him, massaging the insides of his thighs, cooing to him in a low voice. The entire room is filled with his scent and it’s utterly intoxicating — something that completely breaks Donghyuck’s brain. 

He forgets what he was doing. He forgets where he is — all he knows is that he needs to fuck. He knows that there is an omega here, and he's falling into heat, and he needs to fuck him right now.

“Donghyuck,” Renjun says. It pulls him back to the present world, grabs the thin thread attached to his mind and yanks. “For the love of god, stop looking like someone’s hit you with a baseball bat and give me a fucking towel.”

Every step of the way is like his mind is being assaulted by something primal — like he’s losing his very sense of self. He doesn’t understand how Jeno looks so calm — how he can be so close to someone as beautiful as Renjun and not lose his fucking mind. Donghyuck wants him, he needs him, he wants to lean in and drink Renjun’s scent, wants to kiss him, touch him, fuck him until he’s leaking all over him, until Donghyuck can pump him full of his load and feel his knot embedded inside of him.

The stories were true. About omegas in heat, how they made you lose your mind. They were all true, and Donghyuck was living in one.

“Come here,” Jeno says. Donghyuck hands him the towel — a big fluffy one with a hotel logo emblazoned on the corner, and goes to retreat against the wall before Jeno grabs his arm. Donghyuck doesn't think — probably hasn't been thinking for a while — and his alpha instinct takes over as he whips around and snarls, teeth bared.

There's a pulse of something heavy in the air, before Jeno releases him.

“Sorry,” Jeno says. He's not afraid, Donghyuck realises. He guesses he must spend most of his time in the ring dealing with touchy alphas. Donghyuck is probably nothing. He wonders if Jaemin is this possessive when Renjun is in heat. Feels the tiniest pang of embarrassment. “Sorry," Jeno repeats. "Just. He’ll want you. While he still can, he’ll want you. Stay with him.”

Donghyuck nods. “Sorry,” he says. “Okay.”

He crawls onto the mattress beside Renjun, reaches out a hand hesitantly to place against his naked chest. It’s a burst of warmth, skin hot like he’s been lying in the sun all day, and Renjun groans at the relief even his simple touch must provide.

“You should undress,” Jeno says. He’s stripped, too — Donghyuck’s eyes flick down to his cock and then back up to his face, find there’s still a kind smile there despite this entire situation. “You don’t have to. But if you want to.”

He thinks it would be weird otherwise. Pulls his shirt off and throws it onto the floor, strips down to his boxers and pauses for a second to watch Jeno roll Renjun over onto his stomach. From his position on the side of the bed Donghyuck can feel the waves of heat radiating off him and it’s nothing like he could have ever imagined. It’s not the heat of the sun, or a radiator, or a bonfire crackling on a beach, it’s darker. Something heavy and base, magma from a volcano, old and unstoppable. Something that makes Donghyuck want to dive in and smother himself in Renjun.

“How close were you to leaking onto that couch?” Jeno asks, and it’s so fucking casual Donghyuck doesn’t understand. How is Jeno not losing his mind with Renjun right there? How is he not buried inside of him already? How do his hands stay steady through all this, resting on the curve of Renjun’s ass.

“Minutes. I thought I’d make you clean it as payment for not shutting the fuck up.”

“You’re such a git,” Jeno says. He rubs a finger against Renjun’s hole, and when he draws it back there’s a coating of slick on the tip, one rubbed into the towel now under his knees.

“Yeah, yeah, hurry up and fuck me. I’m gonna fucking explode.”

Jeno puts a hand on his hip and looks at Donghyuck, as if he’s the one that needs reassurance. Maybe he is, he thinks.

“Fine,” Jeno says. He squeezes Renjun’s hip, and then he pushes in.

Renjun lets out a moan — something laced with relief, something that sounds like he’s sat down after running a marathon, he’s hit the bed after being on his feet all day. It’s release and comfort and then more all at once. Renjun’s body buckles and he drops from his hands to his elbows, falling forward so only Jeno holds him up. This size difference is almost comical — wide hands that cover Renjun’s bony hips, wrestlers frame against his lithe physique, the muscles in Jeno’s abdomen clenching, body covering Renjun’s as he leans over and pulls a pillow from the stack to shove under Renjun’s chest.

“God, thank you. Fucking hell,” Renjun says, and it’s rough. Rougher. A little dazed, a little lost.

“No problem,” Jeno says. “All good?”

“I will literally punch your lights out if you don’t fuck me right now, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno laughs, but he listens.

Donghyuck — on the other hand — thinks he’s going to lose his fucking mind.

Renjun falls down, his face hitting the pillow and arms going limp, and in turn Jeno grabs his wrists to pull them behind him. He pulls him up, almost like a puppet on a string, except Renjun isn’t waiting for someone to control him — he’s alive and full of fire, breath laboured, chest heaving as Jeno fucks into him. He’s unbelievably wet and it’s all Donghyuck can hear — the slide of his slick audible with every thrust of Jeno’s cock, wet noises that sound fucking obscene, making Donghyuck’s entire body react. Combined with the smell of Renjun’s scent and the snarls that tear from his throat, it makes his stomach lurch. It clouds his brain, a crimson haze that he has to fight from taking him over.

He wants Renjun so much it hurts, a kind of ache in his soul, one that hurts in his teeth and his bones, pulsing through him with a single minded purpose. He wants to rip Jeno off him and take him for himself, can’t stand seeing someone so beautiful not his. He feels fucking possessive — and he has to remind himself, somewhere that Renjun isn’t his to take. He’s not his mate, not any of their mates. They’re just here and helping — but holy fuck the scent of his heat is so strong that Donghyuck thinks he’s going to choke.

He starts to stroke himself, but it’s not nearly enough. Not when he can see Jeno fucking Renjun — the steady rhythm of his hips — not when he wants to be him. He needs more — need to feel Renjun around him and crash their bodies together. He wants to press his face to his skin and taste him, drink every part of him in.

He needs Renjun.

Renjun needs him.

“Donghyuck,” Renjun says. He’s looking at him, though Donghyuck isn’t sure how long it’s been. He hasn’t been watching his face — pressed into the sheets as it is — has been staring at his ass, where Jeno is pressed inside of him. Renjun’s tongue is like gravel and his body must be burning up — sweat falls from his naked chest in thick drops. “Want you to fuck my mouth, okay?’

Holy shit.

Donghyuck nods. Holy shit, holy shit. He scrambles to the top of the bed, sluggish, the heat of the room rolling over him. When he places his hand on Renjun’s shoulder it sears through him and floods his senses, and he swears he can hear Renjun’s voice. Though it’s not muffled, though his lips don’t move — Donghyuck will swear he can hear him say his name.

Renjun shakes with every thrust of Jeno inside him and his hair flops across his face as he looks up at Donghyuck. Eyes pure black — pure arousal — no shame where he stares at Donghyuck’s cock.

“Please,” he says. Donghyuck’s gaze flicks up to Jeno, as if he's looking for reassurance, but Jeno just directs him back to Renjun with a tilt of the head. 

Wet heat swallows him, and Renjun is already speaking — already asking him for more with a vibrating growl that travels along the length of his dick. Every thrust propels Renjun forward slightly, creates a tiny movement of his mouth, but Donghyuck obliges and shuffles closer. Looks at Renjun, who meets his eyes, arms pulled behind his back, Jeno pounding into him. Donghyuck’s seen this position before — in all the depraved porn he’s consumed in a cloud of midnight horniess — but Renjun is nothing like that. The omegas there had been like dolls, bites across their necks, glassy eyed and folding at an alpha's touch.

There’s nothing submissive in Renjun. He’s on fire, he’s ablaze, something vicious behind those eyes. He does not bow to having two alphas fuck him from either end. He opens his mouth wide and Donghyuck digs his hands into his hair and holds his head onto his cock. His hips move of his own volition and Renjun is moaning around him, he’s moaning with a cock in both holes, tongue moving across the underside of Donghyuck’s dick as he gets fucked from behind.

It’s absolutely obscene. The way Renjun looks — and even moreso the way he smells, so fucking heady. Donghyuck gives over to his instincts and his hips snap, his cock ramming into the back of Renjun’s throat, and Renjun just gasps, heat rolling out from him in long waves. Gagging around his cock, but his eyes stay locked on Donghyuck’s and ask him for more. Ask him to stay, to keep going.

Donghyuck couldn't leave if he tried, he thinks. He's trapped here, as long as Renjun smells like this — as long as he looks like this Donghyuck would follow him to the end of the Earth. The grip an omega had over an alpha — they were supposed to be the ones who submitted, and yet every second Donghyuck wonders how that could be when he’s ready to lay kingdoms down at Renjun's feet.

Frantic and filthy, wet noises filling the air, Renjun's hot mouth around him. Spit leaks out the corners of his lips and still he goes, tongue curling across the underside of Donghyuck's cock, body swaying where Jeno holds him up. There's a raw slap of skin on skin and Jeno's laboured breaths and then:

Jeno doesn’t announce he’s coming — just does it, lifts Renjun up and pushes into him as deep as possible. The noise Renjun makes is halfway between a moan and a high pitched whine, a sharp draw of breath that rushes down the back of his throat, and it’s matched by Jeno, gasping as he releases Renjun’s arms and lets him flop back down, shoving him up the bed and causing him to almost fold in two. His nose hits Donghyuck's pubic bone and he takes another deep breath, eyes shut, shuddering, throat contracting around Donghyuck's cock as Jeno spills inside of him, as his knot undoubtedly swells and locks them together.

“Keep fucking him,” Jeno says, and it takes Donghyuck a second to realise that Jeno is talking to him. “He won't let you come unless you knot him now. Keep fucking him." He shifts, scoops a hand under Renjun's waist to hold him up. "Fuck," Jeno says, "god. You good Renjun? You come?”

Renjun makes a garbled noise, then rolls his head away so Donghyuck’s cock isn’t holding his tongue down.

“Didn't come. Need more.”

It’s a strange stillness without Jeno fucking him, the lack of rhythmic thrusts, Jeno's panting softly. His scent is barely there but every time he shifts it seems to float across the surface of Donghyuck's skin — a non-offensive mix of soft fur and freshly cut grass — something he'd find hot in any other situation. Unmistakably alpha — but for once in his life Donghyuck isn't thinking about alphas. 

He's thinking about Renjun.

Renjun grips the inside of his thighs, but he’s barely moving, just letting Donghyuck do the work, little thrusts of his hips that cause him to slip around in Renjun's mouth. On the other side of him every movement Jeno makes causes moans to vibrate through Renjun’s throat — every attempt to prematurely pull his knot out causes him to dig his nails into Donghyuck’s skin. He realises Jeno must be right about him needing to knot because there’s no way Donghyuck wouldn’t have come now otherwise. Renjun’s mouth is obscene, and he’s never buried himself so deep in someone’s throat for so long. If he thinks too much about it — about how he keeps hitting the back of Renjun’s throat, about how Renjun just keeps staring at him, pleading, a few tears pooling on the edges of his lashes as his eyes begin to water — it all washes through him in a sickly wave of heat, but there’s nothing else Donghyuck can do. If he focuses on Jeno it’s the same — the idea that Renjun has a knot buried inside of him right now, that he’s full of cum: it’s almost as intoxicating.

It’s just the three of them, stuck here. Renjun’s heat still isn’t broken and when Donghyuck focuses on him he starts to go mad. It just keeps repeating in his head — Renjun is an omega in heat, he's here in front of Donghyuck and he's in heat and he's so fucking beautiful — and it fills Donghyuck with such a primal need to fuck. To bury himself deep inside Renjun and breed him, to feel his knot swell inside him.

It doesn't seem fair for anyone to have this effect on him.

They're stuck there for a couple more minutes, Jeno making minute rocking motions, talking aimlessly about the grocery shopping he needs to do and texting Jaemin on his phone before he pulls out with a thick, wet squelch. Renjun gasps and falls backwards, causing Donghyuck's cock to slip out of his mouth, but it's short lived. He's back on him again, has the head back in his mouth before Donghyuck can even ask him what's happening. 

Fortunately Jeno answers anyway.

"Jaemin should be here any second,” he says. He’s already wiping himself down. “What do you want, Renjun? How are we feeling?"

Renjun pulls off him again. "Jaem then Hyuck," he says. Lungs shot, voice croaky. "God, Jeno, it's bad. It's really fucking bad."

"Do you want more ice?"

"Run me a bath. I don't know if this will break tonight."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Renjun says. "I can feel it. It's a bad one."

"Do you want me to call the doctor?"

"Not now. It's fine. Where's Jaemin? Need him."

Somehow Donghyuck had missed the front door opening, because at Renjun’s question — Jaemin answers.

“I’m here!”

Jaemin sticks his head through the door and waves to them. Donghyuck's instinct is to cover himself, but he supposes it's maybe a bit too late for that. The entire room is thick with scent, and there’s nothing to hide now. It doesn’t matter anyway — soon Jaemin would be where Jeno had been. Soon Donghyuck would have to watch someone else fuck Renjun again — and then it would be his turn.

“Thank god,” Jeno says. He smiles at Donghyuck. “You’re okay?”

It’s such an innocuous question that Donghyuck has no idea how he’s supposed to answer it. Yes he’s ‘okay’ in the general sense of things, but in the right now? He’s kind of dumbstruck, barely able to focus, floating in the middle of a thick haze that makes his brain feel like it’s been pounded into a fine mist. There’s parts of him that are coated in pinpoints of heat, and there’s parts of him that feel like they’re glowing, and then there’s Renjun, of course — head resting in his lap, every exhale of breath skittering over his cock where it shines slick with his spit.

“'m okay,” Donghyuck says. Jeno laughs. 

“Wasn’t sure how to prepare you. It’s a lot, isn’t it.”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says. How else is he supposed to explain this? A lot is a little too much and maybe right all at once.

Renjun makes a high pitched noise, keening in the back of his throat. Desperate — something that gives a sensation like Donghyuck has tipped back too far on a chair. It’s that moment of hanging in the air before you catch yourself — except instead of panic that cuts through Donghyuck, it’s want. Something that’s less coherent and more animalistic — the taste of Renjun’s heat, the part of him that wants to knot him so badly. And then more, something else he can’t quite explain, iron bands on his lungs. 

He runs his fingers across Renjun’s cheek, pushes his hair away from where it’s stuck to his forehead. A moment of calm in the madness, Renjun’s eyes on his, liquid tar, so dark Donghyuck wants to fall into them.

“You like him, huh?” Jeno asks. It seems to come from underwater, soggy in Donghyuck’s ears. “Usually he won’t suck us off that long. Or stay near us, even.”

Renjun smiles then, glassy eyed, as if to reassure Donghyuck. Fingers crawling up his thigh, sweaty and sticky, touch a brand.

“He’s got a good dick," Renjun says. "None of the bullshit Jaemin pulls either.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Jaemin says. The moment shatters, and Renjun looks away from him, to where Jaemin is pulling off his pants at the bedside, another towel slung over his shoulder. His scent is getting stronger by the second, and the room is starting to smell like a debaucherous bakery, sweetness cut with the undercurrent of sex and sweat. “What do you mean bullshit?”

“You’re so fucking pushy,” Renjun says. His voice is thick, rough. Wrecked by sex.

“After all I’ve done for you,” Jaemin says. Renjun makes a face, nose scrunched in distaste. His fingers run up Donghyuck’s cock and Donghyuck thinks he sees sparks, or at least a corona of white that bursts out across his vision, everything glowing for a second. 

"Fucking my ass a few times a year isn't a favour," Renjun says, "it's a — oh god." 

Jaemin planting his hand on Renjun’s ass is apparently enough to make Renjun lose his train of thought, and he arches back into his touch, much to Jaemin’s amusement. 

"Easy way to make him shut up, by the way," Jaemin says, smirking. Donghyuck only has the capacity to make a strangled noise in return. The touch of an alpha, ambrosia to the heat that was burning up through Renjun's body. Jaemin thumbs at Renjun’s ass, one hand stroking his cock. “You good?”

“Please,” Renjun says, strength struck through, falling to pieces as the temperature in the room soars again, pheromones thick. He’s still flat on the bed, but Jaemin doesn’t seem to mind, just hooks an arm around him and pulls him back up, biceps bulging, until Renjun is on his knees, head still pillowed in Donghyuck's lap, ass in the air. 

"Look at you," Jaemin murmurs, fingers running against Renjun's skin. "Jeno really pumped you nice and full, didn't he? You look so good."

He doesn't wait for a reply — just pushes into him, a wet noise punctuated by the gasp Renjun lets out — a keen breath that lengthens into a ‘yes’.

"You look so good," Jaemin repeats, and it's a dizzying difference from Jeno's near silence — from his preference to communicate with his hands and his body. Jaemin seems to love the sound of his own voice — practically purrs as he tells Renjun how good he is, sending spikes of jealousy through Donghyuck's gut. Renjun's hand is still on his cock, but his grip is loose and his mouth hangs slack jawed, head lolling like he's almost struck stupid with each thrust of Jaemin's cock. 

There’s that jealousy again — and Donghyuck clamps down on it hard, knows it has no place here. He doesn’t want it and he doesn’t need it. This is for Renjun, not for him. Their eyes meet and there’s a spark that crackles between them — something electric that causes Donghyuck’s heart rate to skyrocket. Something more charged than his touch, than the sound of Renjun’s voice — than the moans that come in the form of wet breaths across his skin. It scares Donghyuck, almost. It’s all so new and he’s falling so fast, tumbling towards blackness — towards an all consuming heat that threatens to never let him go.

Jaemin, thankfully, loses his capacity to talk eventually, speeds up his pace and focuses on practically drilling into Renjun, their bodies slamming together with rhythmic smacks — skin on skin, Renjun already so full. Renjun mouths at Donghyuck's cock, eyes lidded, and Donghyuck just stares at him — doesn't know what else to do. 

"You want my knot?" Jaemin asks. Renjun whines — affirmation, heat searing through his skin where Donghyuck holds the back of his head — and Jaemin does much the same as Jeno. He pulls Renjun up and shoves into him as deep as possible, buries himself in his ass and gasps. 

It's the only time Donghyuck has been able to tear his eyes from Renjun and christ — Jaemin looks pretty even when he's coming, lashes fanned across his face, tendons standing out, muscles strained and flexed, his head thrown back and throat begging to be bitten. For a second there Donghyuck had almost forgotten how much he loved alphas, but seeing Jaemin was like being slammed back down to Earth. And then came the whiplash — his almost unconscious need to stare back at Renjun yanking him away again, launching him into whatever alternate space the two of them seemed to share just by themselves.

It’s a repeat of Jeno. Jaemin asks how Renjun feels — he says it hasn’t broken. He stares up at Donghyuck and presses a weak kiss to his cock, but it’s a couple of minutes of nothingness while they wait for Jaemin’s knot to subside, and then he pulls out. He asks Donghyuck if he wants him to stay — asks Renjun if he wants them there — but Renjun says it’s okay. He’ll be okay.

Jaemin leaves. It’s just the two of them. The room like a sauna, and it’s just them now. 

By the time Donghyuck’s kneeling behind Renjun he’s a fucking mess. He can’t tell what’s slick and what’s cum, the entirety of the insides of his thighs coated in a mixture of the two. His hole is stretched out, two knots having passed through it, and when he runs his fingers along the cleft of Renjun’s ass he pushes back against him, needy. His scent is thick as ever, but there’s a keen edge to it, something desperate and wanton. Something that grabs Donghyuck and pulls at him. Renjun's already asked him, but even still he hears him in his mind — not fully formed words, more something primal.

Renjun’s body gives little resistance, just the slightest stretch as he pushes into him, wet squelch of cum leaking out of his hole. Donghyuck didn’t think he’d have much energy in him — not after Renjun’s mouth — but it’s like being inside of him is something else. It’s like every part of him is singing, is alive with need. Pushing into Renjun renews him, gives him a burst of energy better than slamming down a whole can of Monster at three am on exam night. He rocks into him, pulls his cheeks apart with his hands and reveals in the stretch of his hole around his cock, pushing deeper, pulling him up much the same way Jaemin had, fingers brushing against his cock where it’s rock hard and hanging between his legs.

There's heat everywhere and then there's Renjun everywhere too, voice a siren in his head, gasps and moans and pleas to go, to fuck him, to please knot him — please. He doesn’t know if he could say no, even if he wanted to — his tongue is like lead in his mouth and his whole perception of the world is narrowed to here and now — to fucking, to Renjun, to his body and the way it receives him, to this _need_ that underscores everything, a need to fuck and feel his knot inside of him.

He obliges. He starts slow, but it’s so brief he might as well not have — Renjun asks for him to move, and Donghyuck listens. He listens to Renjun in his head and in his ears, listens to the way he sings for him and fucks him as hard as he can — cum streaked along the length of his cock, painting the insides of Renjun’s thighs, his whole body shaking and moaning. Smell thick in his senses, and he needs this, he needs it so badly. It’s like this is all he was made to do, to fuck Renjun, to be like this with him. Renjun is loud — he knows he must be. Even though the only noises he makes are wrecked moans, he feels his name on the tip of his tongue — feels Renjun's orgasm tear through him a split second before his own, like an echo after a thunderclap, a sonic boom flattening the earth and knocking the words from his mouth.

He comes with what he can only describe as the most intense orgasm of his life — white hot and searing, exploding all across his skin and centered on where he's buried inside Renjun, where cum leaks out of him and his slick drips onto the towels. Something in the base of his brain tells him to _go_ and he buries himself inside, feels Renjun’s body locking up around him as his knot swells and he pumps his cum inside of him, skin rolling with thick heat. The world shatters around him and his weight falls over Renjun, the two of them tipping over, Renjun clamped so tight around his knot he knows he couldn't pull out even if he wanted to.

Renjun stinks. He stinks so strongly that it's the one thought that can pierce the chorus of 'mineminemine' that screams in his head like an air raid siren. His scent overtakes him and Donghyuck’s body turns to jelly, limbs weak, throat unable to form a sound except a long whine.

Thankfully Renjun has a little more control over his body. He rearranges their limbs and throws Donghyuck’s leg over his hip, pulling them close so Donghyuck’s knot isn’t pushing at him as much. There's a flood of endorphins singing through his brain, and there's a sense of comfort, too, settling like dust after the war. Like the first snowflakes of winter, ash after the fire. Their bodies pressed against each other, fit together so well like this was made to be. 

How can Donghyuck ever go back to anyone else after this? How can he fuck anyone after knowing Renjun, after knotting him with the pulse of his heat around him. After seeing the writhe of his body and tasting his scent on his tongue. He touches a hand to Renjun's chest to hold him close and finds that it's splattered with cum — that when Renjun shot his load he must have hit himself too. Donghyuck smears it against his skin with his fingers and rubs his face into the nape of Renjun's neck, pressing kisses against his sweat soaked skin.

"Are you okay?" Donghyuck asks. His cock is still twitching — slower now, dribbles of cum being released inside Renjun, and the two of them are still tied. He’d figured with how loose Renjun had been after Jeno and Jaemin he’d be able to pull out quickly, but he’s never had someone clamp down on him after knotting like this. 

It's nice, though. Spooning him, his arm wrapped around Renjun's chest, Renjun fitting so well into the bracket of his body. Naked skin on skin, sticky with sex, with sweat and pheromones. Donghyuck can, somehow, even smell himself — the arid scent of sunbaked prairies in the summer, hedged with thick bursts of arousal. 

"I think it's breaking," Renjun says. Donghyuck fits his fingers between his ribs and taps against his skin.

"You feel better?"

"A lot better," Renjun says. "Though that might be the knot speaking." 

"Might be, yeah. What's it feel like?" Donghyuck asks. He presses a kiss to the back of Renjun's head.

"To be knotted?" Renjun twists his head around so they're eye to eye. His gaze is dark and swirling and seems to pierce Donghyuck as he nods. 

"Huh," Renjun says. He turns back around and makes a noise in the back of his throat. In the kitchen Jaemin is laughing, and someone searches through a drawer with a clatter of china. "Like a huge knot in your ass, Donghyuck.” Renjun laughs. “It feels like your body can't take it at first, but then you realise you can. It's the best feeling in the world. Like drinking water when you're parched — expect you haven't drank water in a week and you're stuck in the middle of the desert. And it's scary. It's really scary. I trust myself now — I know nothing bad will happen but it's still scary. You feel vulnerable. I feel vulnerable now, but I trust you. All of you. " 

Jeno's laughter this time. He's playing music — the kind of jangly indie guitar rock that seems to be the favourite of half the arts kids on campus. 

"You know, no-one's asked me that before," Renjun says.

Donghyuck isn't sure how to answer that. "You're welcome?" he says. Renjun bats at his hand playfully, before grasping it and tangling their fingers together.

"Not like that. It's just weird, that's all. I don't think about it. It's just something I'm used to. “

Donghyuck's cock twitches again where he's still tied inside of Renjun. He tries not to think about how much cum he must have spilled inside of him by now.. 

"I wouldn't know," he says. Renjun hums, chest vibrating under Donghyuck's touch.

"You should try it. If you want to, of course. But still, you know. You know how it feels to knot someone. Is it the same?"

"No," Donghyuck says. "It ain't scary. Not any more scary than sex is, anyway. It just feels — " he stops, because he's not sure how to say what he wants to say without seeming stupid. Truth is he's never felt too strongly about knotting someone until he'd knotted Renjun. Mostly it was just a means to an end. But with Renjun it felt different. It felt good, the biggest kick of endorphins he'd ever experienced, a tidal wave crashing over his head and swallowing all outside sound. Being buried in someone — not just physically but emotionally, like the two of them had become one just for a second.

"Feels like what?"

"Dunno. Just feels like sex." One, two, tap of his fingers on skin. "Gotta say it was different with you, though."

"It’s the heat," Renjun says quickly. "You know, pheromones. All that stuff they taught you about in sex ed."

"I'm from Texas," Donghyuck says. "Sex Ed was the local pastor telling us Jesus would want us to save it for marriage."

"That's rough," Renjun says. " Well. Pheromones make it better. Or so I've been told."

"So you've been told," Donghyuck repeats.

"What do you want me to say? I don't have firsthand experience. Just what I've read." He laughs, a little puff of air. "But pheromones are to blame for everything, aren't they? Why we're even drawn to each other in the first place. Why I don't feel like I'm lying in a sauna right now. It's all part of our biology — our ancestors, whatever weird twist of evolution made us like this."

"What even was the point of it anyway?" Donghyuck asks. He hadn't taken human biology — and even if he had he reckons at this point he'd probably have forgotten it. 

"We don't know," Renjun says. "People keep coming up with theories and then we find out they're bullshit, or something some old geezer wrote in a book two thousand years ago because they wanted an excuse to treat other people like shit. People just pick and choose whatever affirms their world view, or whatever they've grown up with. I think we're scared of finding out there's no fucking point in it. That I'm not so different from you after all."

"You reckon?" Donghyuck says. He's read about it, now that he thinks about it. Though most of his forays into classic literature were, embarrassingly, through Shmoop, they still had dealt with the way things had been. How debilitating it had been for omegas and alphas, the forced separation between them. How people would be 'claimed' by friends just to protect themselves from unwanted suitors. "You know you'd be a god two hundred years ago?"

Renjun turns and looks back at him, and it strikes somewhere in the pit of his stomach, like a clenched fist driving through stuffing, sweeping the breath from his lungs, the thoughts from his mind, leaving nothing but a scattered burning in his wake. Flames in the trail of a firecracker, sparks on the edge of his vision, a glow like the morning sun. The deep brown has returned to his irises and he pierces through Donghyuck with just the slightest quirk of the corner of his mouth, a sloping smile that unfurls like the first page of a book.

"I know," Renjun says, in a way that to Donghyuck makes him think he can read his mind — aware of the holy glow that seems to surround him.

It's pheromones, isn't it? The way an alpha wants an omega, the way their very smell is meant to entice. Renjun says they're not so different, but Donghyuck doesn't know if he should believe him. Sure — he's living proof of just how ineffective pheromones really were at keeping everything in check — of how arbitrary those laws of attraction were, but on some base level it must be true. It's the same base reason that he's tied with Renjun right now — to keep as much cum inside of him, to raise the chance of passing his genes on.

Except — Donghyuck has pulled a trick, of course. He's never knotted a single person that could even bear his children — has no desire to. Renjun might be an omega — he might be made to receive his knot — but he wasn’t the kind of omega nature had intended. Breeding him had no use, apart from satisfying some base part of his brain that hungered for it.

And somehow that made it better — that this union that was supposed to be special: an omega in heat and their alpha — they had twisted it for their own use. 

*

After they break apart Renjun heads straight for the downstairs shower, leaving Donghyuck to collect his wits and ask himself what the fuck just happened. He hobbles through to the bathroom and wipes himself down, washes his face and waits for the sound of the shower to stop — not wanting to hog the hot water.

Good god. He can’t believe this is real life. He can’t believe he’d just fucked Renjun through his heat. The heat that he was having because he wasn’t a beta — he was an omega. An omega who couldn’t take suppressants. An omega who got insane heats. He’d just essentially spitroasted him with his roommates. And this was a normal occurrence? 

There’s a knock on the door — strong and firm. 

"Can I come in?"

It’s Renjun. His voice is streaked with something strange — but it might just be hoarseness from what had just happened. Donghyuck thinks to pick up a towel, but realises it's kind of pointless — especially after Renjun has seen so much of him already.

"Yeah," Donghyuck says. “It’s fine.” He wonders if he should shave — he doesn't have class tomorrow so he doesn't feel like he needs to but still it's a bit of a principle thing. Helps him feel good to not be graced with the few spots of facial hair his body manages to muster.

The door clicks open and Renjun slides in, along with a blast of cool air from the rest of the house. He's wearing a huge fluffy white robe, the lapel branded with the same hotel the towels had been from. It's way too big for him and he swims in it, sleeves hanging off his arms, front falling open to display his collarbones. Combined with how tight the belt is drawn at his waist he looks like he's in some kind of Victorian dress — which is probably period appropriate considering how crazy Donghyuck's brain goes at the sight of Renjun's skin. Never mind that ten minutes ago he'd been spooning him with his knot in his ass — no, it’s a flash of skin in his bathrobe that drive him insane.

He instinctively lifts his arm to sniff for pheromones, then realises how fucking gross it must look by the amused smile on Renjun's face.

"First time's a bit crazy," Renjun says. He sits on the edge of the bathtub and runs his fingers through the water, looking more and more like a forlorn painting. Somehow Donghyuck had missed the fact that the tub was full. He recalls Jeno saying he'd run an ice bath and — of course it was on the second floor. It was the room closest to Renjun's. Why wouldn't it be?

"Do you mind if I?" Renjun asks, tilting his head towards the tub. He looks less lost now their eyes are meeting again. Wide eyed, coal black irises filled with cinders. He's still in heat. He can smell it on him — a furnace on his insides, scent wafting off him in long waves. Ebb and flow like river water under the bridge.

"It's okay," Donghyuck says. 

Renjun smiles. Gentle, like the way he'd touched him. Hands tangled, bodies fit together so well. He drops his robe on the floor and Donghyuck's eyes follow it, avoiding staring at Renjun's body until he realises Renjun isn't moving. 

Eyes flick up to his face. Smile wider, wry. Tan skin marked with red splotches, circles on his wrists, fingerprints on his hips. Sinewy muscle in his arms, his chest, legs. He looks away, embarrassment flooding him. Renjun looks _fucked_ , fucked out, still all flushed, damp 

"Cute," Renjun says. He steps into the water and groans, makes no pretense of easing himself into the polar water — just drowns in it. The noise he lets out is borderline pornographic, all too similar to how he'd sounded with Donghyuck's cock in his ass, and sure enough Donghyuck’s stomach jumps, a small flash of arousal lighting up inside him.

"Was that really cute?" Donghyuck says, turning back to the mirror and scratching his chin. In the reflection Renjun is lying on his back, only his face and the points of his knees visible out of the water like icebergs.

"Sure. You're being shy when you just fucked me? It’s pretty cute.”

“Geeze,” Donghyuck says, because he really doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to. 

“Is it awkward?” Renjun asks. Donghyuck shakes his head.

“Just new.”

Renjun hums in agreement. “But it’s alright, right? Sorry for the. For the time it took there. That hasn’t happened before, actually.”

“You reckon?”

“Yeah. I mean. You saw Jeno and Jaemin. I don’t usually. Umm. Do whatever that was.” He raises a red nailed hand from the water and drips it all over his face. “Maybe it’s because you were new. Dunno.”

Donghyuck’s heart thuds in his chest, but outwardly he retains his composure, just smiles.

“Ain’t that weird, then?”

“Yeah.” 

Renjun slides into the water, completely submerging himself. The silence is overwhelming, and Donghyuck isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do. Shower? Leave? Keep talking? He’s not usually a nervous person — doesn’t tend to doubt much, smashes his way through life like a trooper. But today? This? This was never on the books — this is so far in the unknown it’s like he’s adrift at sea. He’s fucking scrambling right now.

“That was kind of romantic, wasn’t it?” Renjun says, interrupting his thoughts as he surfaces again. “In a weird way.” He laughs. “Well, it could have been. Maybe I’m just touch starved.”

_Definitely fucking scrambling._

“Renjun?” Donghyuck asks, because he’s not sure what else to do. He turns around and Renjun shrugs at him, shoulders breaking the surface with how exaggerated the gesture is.

“Sorry. Whatever. It’s not awkward, is it?”

“You already asked that,” Donghyuck says.

“Right, sorry.”

“You’re kind of making it awkward.”

“Right.”

It’s the most stilted they’ve ever been. Like something monumental has shifted in their relationship. With Renjun he finds that moments flow — that they’re both as comfortable with each other’s silence as they are with speaking. But now he feels like he needs to say something, and yet when he does it comes out wrong. It's like he can't win. It's like this all is floating around them and neither of them knows how to react. They just fucked, right? That's literally all it was — sex. The fact that Renjun's body had literally refused to let his knot go was strange — but probably not unusual. Heat did strange things to people, and Renjun probably had an already fucked up system. Them tying like they were bonded was a part of that, surely? There was no need to think about it otherwise.

"You should shower, Donghyuck," Renjun says. 

Donghyuck doesn't say anything. He just turns on the water and tries to scrub the stiffness from his skin, hoping that somehow it'll give him an answer.

  
  


*

  
  


The answer is that Donghyuck is going to go mad.

It's what he's decided. What he knows. After showering he'd gone straight to bed, not wanting to deal with Jeno or Jaemin, and slept straight through to late morning. 

He wakes up to the neighbour on a ride-on lawnmower outside his window and birdsong in his ears, bright white sunlight leaking under the curtains — and an entire house thick with Renjun's scent. An entire self flooded with him — both his human self and his alpha senses, dazed and scratched as they are. He aches in muscles he's barely used — somewhere in the back of his throat — and Renjun's scent is all over _him_ , earthy chocolate seeped into his clothes and into his skin. He knows there's no marks left on him — he'd checked that in the mirror, but even so he can feel a burn, red hot where Renjun's fingers had dug into him.

His head spins, and it's miserable and intoxicating all at once.

"Renjun?" Donghyuck says. His throat is parched, and he reaches to grab his bottle off the nightstand and take a sip of water, almost knocks his phone off the table in his sleepy hurry.

The smell makes everything disorienting. He stumbles out his room onto the landing and swears he can feel the memories of the last night physically rearranging themselves in his head, like loose change in a pocket clattering around.

Standing where he is, trying to sort out his brain, bare feet sinking into the carpet, sunlight hitting the side of his face — he hears a weak noise in his head. A whimper — something in pain. Someone. Renjun's scent is thick even here, and Donghyuck knows what it is. He can't help himself when he climbs the steps to Renjun's room and tentatively pushes open the door.

He's almost knocked out by the wave of heat that hits him — by the stickiness of the air, the sheer heaviness of the pheromones that fill Renjun's room. It's like a sauna, but it's sticky and sweet — like a drug where it fills Donghyuck's lungs. He has to do everything he can do to not just inhale the smell of Renjun. The lights are off and the curtains are drawn, and in the gloom all he can see are the winking dots of Renjun's computer monitors and the shapes of his guitars glinting on the opposite wall.

"Renjun?"

Renjun makes a strangled noise, the dull shadow of his bedspread shifting. "Donghyuck. It's bad. It's really bad. Come here."

He hesitates for a second, unsure of what to do with himself. If Renjun is even a right state of mind to ask for him — but he figures the least he can do is soothe him just by being there. It's his job, after all. That's what alphas should do, right?

"Can I turn on the light?"

He's answered by the bedside lamp clicking on, naked light that rolls out in a blanket of glow. It highlights Renjun where he lies flat on the bed, catches the sheen of sweat on his skin, the bare expanse of his shoulders, boxers clinging to his skin, pale legs splayed out like he'd been dropped from the sky onto the mattress.

Christ, he looks bad. He smiles at Donghyuck, weak, eyes dark in the odd shadows cast by the lamplight.

"Please," he says.

Jeno and Jaemin have sports practice on Saturday mornings and usually go out for lunch together afterwards, but Donghyuck is a loser who sleeps in until eleven and that means he's alone in the house. That means he's getting into bed with an omega, alone — one still in heat after being knotted three times yesterday. One staring at him with hazy eyes, with a scent that's like nothing he's ever smelled before, stuffy in his head, rubbed all over him.

He's so utterly, utterly fucked.

"Donghyuck, please," he says. "It hurts."

"Do you want me to get your pills?" Donghyuck asks. Last ditch effort.

"No, you fuckhead. I want you."

Donghyuck wants to laugh at harshness of Renjun's voice, how he still bites so viciously even so deep into his heat, but he's kind of turned stupid. It's like there's a spell on him — one that floods his senses and pins his feet to the floor. He can't go backwards — he has to listen to Renjun and obey him. It's not like he doesn't want to, but he wants to pretend he doesn't want it so bad he can feel the burn inside of him.

The mattress dips when Donghyuck sits on it, and the sheets are damp beneath his thighs where his boxers ride up. Renjun's on fire, skin slick with sweat, but when Donghyuck touches his hand to the back of his neck Renjun _melts_ , every part of him going limp, tendons that were taut in his neck relaxing. He lets out a sigh, a little strained, but still one that's unmistakably of relief.

"That's good," Renjun says. A murmur, soft in the half light. Donghyuck splays his hand out between his shoulder blades, runs his fingers along the arc of his bone, feels Renjun shift beneath his touch. He lets out a groan and Donghyuck runs his other hand down his arm, squeezes the small definition of his bicep, goes back up and dances across his skin, up the side of his face to touch his cheek. Renjun turns his face sideways and in a second Donghyuck finds his fingers in his mouth. Renjun stares up at him, gaze dark, his presence so much larger than just the boy lying on the bed. His tongue rolls around Donghyuck's pointer and it's all too similar to yesterday — to the way he'd sucked his cock, to how desperate he'd been.

"Renjun," Donghyuck says again. He's so weak. He's so fucking weak.

"If you don't want to, I'll call Jaemin," Renjun says, muffled around his fingers. It’s too close. Memories flashing through Donghyuck’s mind, his cock twitching in his pants. "He'll come if he needs to."

A pause. Donghyuck can hear the pipes groaning in the bathroom, the low whirr of Renjun's mini fridge, doves cooing in the tree outside. Suburban life, everyone going about their Saturday morning without any knowledge of what was happening above their heads.

"But I want you."

Donghyuck is a weak man. He thinks he's strong — forged under the Texas sun, in the long sweltering summers and the brilliant sunsets — but truly he's weak, because Renjun makes him crumble. Maybe it's the newness of the situation — inexperience with omegas, with _heats_ , but four words are all it takes. They're all Renjun has to say to make his head spin and every part of him sing for him. He's a mess, and he wishes he could be something more than base in this situation, but it's too much. 

"No," Donghyuck says, and his hands are on Renjun, wet with his spit — with his sweat. "It's okay. I can."

He's pulling down Renjun's boxers and the two of them are frantic — scrambling for it, for touch, contact — something more. His fingers dip into the cleft of his ass and he feels the slick leaking from him, a wet mess that just begs for Donghyuck. He doesn't know what comes over him — only that he's fucking addicted to Renjun, finds himself between his legs, face buried between his cheeks as the heady scent of his heat chokes him. 

There's slick leaking all over his skin and Donghyuck needs it — has to taste it, runs his tongue over Renjun's hole. He presses him into the bed and licks at him, breathes him in until he's lightheaded, until Renjun is writhing, moaning and almost sobbing Donghyuck's name, begging for his cock and his knot. 

He yields. He has to. Renjun rolls onto his back and Donghyuck — lips wet with slick — climbs over him and presses a kiss to his mouth. He intends it to be tender, but there's the matter of Renjun's heat — there's the matter of the feral roar that's rising in him, the way Renjun spreads his legs. Their cocks rub together and Donghyuck feels it break all over his skin, this burning need for each other. Open mouthed kisses, all teeth, sloppy and desperate like this is a three am hookup in some stranger's house. Like there's no time — like Donghyuck is so turned on he might explode. He pulls back, hovering over him, and Renjun's eyes are dark, his cheeks are red — he stares up at him like he's made of fire. Like anyone else would have been burnt.

Renjun spreads his legs, hands hooked under his knees, eyes trained on him — opening himself up for Donghyuck. The sentiment is clear — I want to see you, I want you to fuck me — and after fucking him from the back yesterday it brings something electric to Donghyuck. He runs a hand up the side of Renjun's thigh and leans down — pulls them both together and takes a breath. Renjun's lips parted, eyes lidded, both of their breaths harsh. There’s a moment — a second, sparks across his vision, something urging him on in the back of his mind. 

Donghyuck pushes the head of his cock inside of him.

Pressing into him is like ecstasy. It's like every one of Donghyuck's senses is flooded with Renjun, like the outside world falls away from him. Renjun's still loose from being fucked before and there's so little resistance from the obscene amount of slick he's producing that Donghyuck has no trouble just sliding into him, hand digging into his ass where he holds him steady. Renjun lets out a throaty noise and pushes back against him, and he's so open and vulnerable, head thrown back, neck on display. It's so fucking much Donghyuck thinks he might cry — has to screw his eyes shut to avoid meeting Renjun's gaze.

"Hyuck," Renjun says, and it seems to come from all around, like he's lost in the fog, without senses, Renjun the only thing he knows. "Need you, Hyuck."

"I need you too," Donghyuck says. Maybe he doesn't. He's not sure. He's not the one with a blood boiling heat, but he still feels it somewhere deep in his gut. He does need him. Donghyuck has a bodycount in the mid double digits — he loves sex, loves people and fucking them. But this is different. This is Renjun in his head, this is him inside of Renjun, this is his scent making him drunk. This is just the two of them, and somehow it feels special.

"Fuck me," Renjun says.

Donghyuck couldn't resist even if he tried.

The first stroke explodes in the back of his throat, heat arcing through him. He moves in small motions, little thrusts to ease himself in, like he’s unsure if he should be doing this — like it’s so fucking overwhelming his muscles are locking up — but Renjun is impatient. He hooks a leg around his back and pulls at him, hand firm on his bicep.

"Faster. C'mon, Hyuck. I can take it."

Before there was the worry of Jeno and Jaemin. What they did. How it was. Them in the house while Donghyuck fucked Renjun, a constant buzz at the back of his brain. But now his want is unbridled. Now Renjun begs for him, now he needs him more than ever. Donghyuck fucks him without restraint, with the searing haze of his heat around him, with every part of him screaming Renjun’s name. It’s tattooed across his brain, it burns in the chambers of his heat, in all the parts of him he’d never touched before, this drive to fuck him.

His lips between Renjun’s teeth, their kisses messy. Renjun’s nails on his back, clawing at him, snarls ripped from his throat. Donghyuck is feral but Renjun has gone mad — he’s clutching at Donghyuck, he’s biting him. His whole body is almost folded in two and Donghyuck pounds into him, Donghyuck feels it all rise up in him, the raw burn of Renjun’s scratches on his skin — the raw burn of his throat as he tries to speak. He’s falling apart and he’s burning up, like an asteroid falling through the atmosphere, the ground hurtling closer at a speed that will turn him to dust. 

“Renjun,” Donghyuck says. He doesn’t know how his voice works, honestly. Is sure he might just start speaking in tongues with how overwhelmed he is — but he tries all the same.

“Hyuck,” Renjun says. It’s snarled into his skin, vicious. Like it’s torn out of him, like he can barely control himself. He loses all train of thought, just falls over Renjun, covers him with his body, tangles his hands in his hair and kisses him. He fucks him until he forgets everything, until all he can taste is his heat. Until all he knows is Renjun — Renjun’s name in his mouth, Renjun’s body against his, the way his cock slides in and out of his body, the way he’s falling to pieces.

The way — the way Renjun says his name. The way Renjun asks for his knot, his voice breaking in the middle of the sentence. It’s like he tugs on a string tied around Renjun’s heart — it’s like it’s the stitch that’s holding him together. One request from Renjun, voice jagged — it’s enough to make him come undone.

Donghyuck comes like that, his orgasm punching through him. The roar of lions in his ears, a primal surge of pleasure that rolls like an unstoppable tide all over his skin. It swallows him up, echoes through him and once again he buries himself in Renjun — once again his knot swells up and Renjun _clamps_ down around him.

He’s sticky and dizzy and he’s still kissing Renjun — but it’s weak. Open mouthed and barely moving, elbows bracketing his head, their bodies pushed together. He’s panting — they both are — and there’s no words exchanged. Just kisses. Just body language, Renjun’s ankles hooked around his back, pulling him close. 

It’s just the two of them here. Their own world. Just the two of them with their breath mingling, with their bodies locked together. Heat rolling off Renjun’s skin, sweat pooling on the small of Donghyuck’s back. 

Something sparks in him and Donghyuck runs his hands through Renjun’s hair, fans it out behind his head. Rests their foreheads together and stares at him — dark eyes on dark eyes. Still no words, but something passes between then anyway. 

Something he doesn’t understand but — knowing Donghyuck’s luck — will come back to bite him in the ass sooner or later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I've gone through this and have hopefully fixed any and all grammar mistakes. if you spot one don't hesitate to drop me a cc about it. it's not my betas faults, it's mine.
> 
> thank u all for ur lovely comments on the first chapter u guys seriously make my day *__*


	3. Do these boys even eat anything that isn't takeout?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donghyuck deals with the aftermath of Renjun's heat. Jeno gets boba.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for how disgustingly long this took me to update and sorry for how short this chapter is. thank you as always to claire for giving this a once-over <3

Of all the scenarios Donghyuck had run through his head of what would happen to him and Renjun after this whole thing was over — after Renjun’s heat had broken and Donghyuck had finally got his knot out of his ass — the reality was, of course, not one of them.

They’ve both showered and Donghyuck is sitting in the kitchen with a can of Coke, answering Jisung’s texts about whether still they’re going out tomorrow (probably — unless Renjun goes into heat again for some god forsaken reason that Donghyuck doesn’t put past happening). Renjun comes back through, towel thrown over his still bare shoulders, hair damp, wearing a pair of sweatpants that look about a wash away from falling to pieces. There’s a moment when he enters the room where both of them stop and look at each other.

Everything flashes through Donghyuck’s head in an instant. The sex. The tension in the bathroom. All the ways Renjun had looked at him, how it felt to hold him close while he knotted him. His skin is still raw — back crisscrossed with red scratches like furrows in the earth — and his body aches, though it’s soothed by the afterglow that’s soaked through his bones like fresh honey.

They make eye contact and everything flashes through Donghyuck’s head and then — 

He laughs. 

He can’t help it. He starts to laugh — hysterical, release of steam in a valve, all the tension breaking through — and Renjun joins him. It’s pure and sweet, the both of them giddy, and it escalates like bubbles, fizzing through his throat until there’s tears welling in his eyes and Renjun is clutching his stomach, telling him to stop it. There’s nothing, objectively, to stop — but Donghyuck tells him he can’t anyway.

His life has become crazy in the space of less than 24 hours. This time yesterday he was probably just getting out of class, going on his way to meet Jisung with no idea what was awaiting him at home. Now he’s kinda seeped in Renjun. It’s not so much that he can smell the pheromones — he can in a rudimentary way — but more that he can feel them. The effect they have on him is like a few too many glasses of wine, just enough to make him a little giddy. He wants to cling to Renjun even though he knows he shouldn’t, drape his body over him and breath in his scent.

He’s never going to be able to smell chocolate again without getting a pavlovian response, that’s for sure.

“Geeze,” Renjun says, wiping away the tears that are streaming down his cheeks. “Man, it’s kind of fucking weird, isn’t it?”

“Just a little bit.”

“Just a little, yeah. Man, I swear it wasn’t this strange with Jeno and Jaemin. It was a lot simpler.”

“Yeah?"

"For real. God." He dabs at the corner of his eye with his towel. "This is absolutely insane, right?"

"You're telling me?"

"I know I just. You just fucked the daylights out of me, Hyuck. And now you're drinking coke."

Donghyuck takes an exaggerated sip from the can and smacks his lips, and then — putting on his best TV commercial voice — says: "Coca-cola. The perfect drink for after you pound your roommate's ass."

Renjun doubles over with a scream of laughter, slapping his palms against his knees, then wincing.

"Oww, Christ. Holy shit, Donghyuck. Shut up, please. My ribs hurt."

"You break them, old man?"

"I'll break your face in a minute," Renjun says, faking a punch from where he's still partially doubled over.

"You couldn't even catch me."

"You're soft and out of shape. I exercise. You wanna make that bet?"

"Maybe when your ass isn't so sore, sure. Gotta give you a chance right?"

Renjun smiles, innocent as can be. He’s good at playing up the wide eyed baby facade — whether it’s just to get free drinks or convince the security guard that pulled them aside that he’s definitely not carrying a backpack full of handles to the frat house.

“Of course. Give me a fair chance. See how that works out for you.”

Donghyuck has a faint intuition that he just walked into a trap. Fortunately, he’s good at ignoring all possible signs that things are about to go wrong, and agrees with Renjun happily. 

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“Is this a bet?”

“Do you want to make it one?”

Renjun grins. Shark’s teeth, devil’s eyes.

“Do I get to pick the prize?”

_ No brain alpha says yes. _

“What do you have in mind?”

_ Or that. _

Renjun purses his lips. “Let me think about it.”

Hook, line and sinker. Donghyuck falls for the bait, complete with a false sense of security at knowing he walked right into it.

"Okay,” he shrugs. Knowing Renjun it’ll be some fancy dinner or something embarrassing but harmless, like forcing Donghyuck to be his drink retriever or making him wear a spandex leotard during the next chapter meeting. “Sure."

"Don't think I'll forget it, either."

"You gotta think of the prize before I beat you," Donghyuck says. There's no way Renjun — 5'7" on a good day — could possibly outrun Donghyuck at  _ anything _ . It's not even that he's an omega, it's that Donghyuck is a freaking alpha. He's naturally good at this sort of shit.

"I will," Renjun says. Soft smile. "Anyway. What were we talking about?"

"How weird this entire thing is?"

"And how it wasn't as weird with Jeno and Jaemin, right?"

"How  _ wasn’t  _ it weird with them? Actually, how did y'all even start this anyway?"

Now that he’s clear of mind — not unbearably horny and fixated on fucking Renjun’s ass — he’s curious. How do you even get to this sort of situation? What happens if Jaemin and Jeno start dating people?

Renjun snorts. “Geeze. Well. It started when Jeno was my first year roommate.”

“You roomed in the  _ mixed dorms _ ?”

“Why’s that so surprising?”

“I just didn’t think any omegas did that.”

"Really?" Renjun cocks an eyebrow. 

Donghyuck gives him a look. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be.” Renjun says. He hops up onto the dining table and picks up Donghyuck’s coke to take a drink. “Why does it matter if I room with an alpha? Why would you be surprised? I’m living with three of you brainless idiots right now, and I’m pretty sure I’m the one running this show. Do you think I shouldn’t be living with you now?”

“You were a freshman,” Donghyuck says. “It’s different.”

“How? Honest question, right? How’s it different? Don’t say because I’m an omega. Don’t say because I was young. I was just as stupid two years ago as I am right now.”

Donghyuck opens his mouth and closes it. Snatches the can back from Renjun to take a drink. What reason does he have apart from what he knows? Omegas didn’t live with alphas. They just didn’t — that was it. 

“Nothing?” Renjun says. 

“I don’t know. It’s just what I was always told.”

“Why, cause God says omegas and alphas shouldn’t live together unwed? Just like girls and boys?” It seems like he intends it as a joke but it comes out with a bitter edge. He sniffs and shakes his head. There’s red marks on his chest — Donghyuck’s mouth imprinted against his skin. “Sorry” he adds, glancing up at him, eyes burning. “That was supposed to be funny. Texas. God fearing."

Donghyuck gives him a smile and Renjun returns it.

"Just," he continues. "I’m sick of it. I’ve heard it before — not just directed at me, but at all these kids I work with. At my friends. You ask Jisung, and he’s probably heard it too. It's silly. I'm really tired of it. I don't need it from you too, please.” 

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck says. He feels dizzy at the outburst, like he’d just stepped on a landmine and could feel it ticking beneath his foot. Renjun flashes him a thin smile. 

“I know you didn’t mean any harm. It’s okay. But that kind of thinking is insidious. Think about it next time.” He clears his throat and drums his fingers against the countertop, shoulders drooping. 

Foot off. Trap disarmed.

"But uh. Yes,” Renjun continues. “I did live in a mixed dorm. You’d be surprised. It was mostly betas, omegas and a few female alphas."

"What was it like?"

"It was cool," he shrugs. "I doubt it was that different from the other dorms. I hear the omega dorms have wild parties, actually. Anyway, me and Jeno, right?"

"Right.”

“I’m gonna disappoint you here with the lack of wild story,” Renjun says with a laugh, “but it was literally just a mutual choice that when my suppressants failed he’d help me through it.”

“And your suppressants failed?”

“My suppressants always fail. That’s kind of the point.”

He makes a grabby hand at Donghyuck, then pouts when Donghyuck snatches his can of coke closer to his chest. 

“It’s mine,” Donghyuck says. Renjun wrinkles his nose.

“I just let you fuck my brains out and you won’t even share your pop with me?”

“It’s  _ mine _ ,” Donghyuck repeats. 

“Fuck you,” Renjun says. He sighs and drops down from the table — bare feet soft against the wood — and shuffles over to the fridge to pull out a can for himself. “You’re so ungrateful.” 

“Wasn’t I the one doing the favour here?” Donghyuck asks. Renjun waves a hand dismissively, like he’s shooing someone away.

“Sure. But you can’t deny it wasn’t good, was it?”

Donghyuck’s cheeks heat up and he takes a hasty sip. The soda tastes too sweet all of a sudden, and he’s forced to swallow it and try to ignore the strange flavour in his mouth. 

God, the taste. How Renjun had tasted — the headiness of his scent combined with his slick on Donghyuck’s tongue. He’d practically been drinking it. It feels gross now, but in the moment it had seemed so right. In the moment a lot of it had seemed right.

"It was," Donghyuck says, careful. He isn't really sure what he's supposed to say. Is Renjun embarrassed? Is this his way of diffusing tension? Surely not, but this is so uncharted for Donghyuck it borders on hysterically confusing. "I mean, are you ok?"

"Am I okay?" Renjun repeats. "Yeah. I'm okay. It's heat sex. Shit happens. You were good to me. Not weird, or any of that shit. It was nice, Hyuck. Or as nice as it could be. Thank you."

It’s strangely tender. Renjun clears his throat and looks away, tapping his fingers against the edge of his can with a tinny rhythm, then putting it back down on the bench. Outside there’s a crunch of gravel beneath car wheels — probably the neighbour coming home. His mouth opens and shuts and a few fragmented words float around his mind before they coalesce into a thought that hits the second before Renjun speaks.

_ He's going to ask me to fuck him again. _

"If you wanna make it something regular I'm here, too. Haven't had a good fuckbuddy in a while." Renjun picks at his nails as he says it, only glancing up at the very last part to cock an eyebrow. 

Donghyuck's dick stirs.

"In a while?"

He's got a really fucking dumb mouth — but luckily Renjun is adept at dealing with that dumb mouth by now.

"Well, Mark got all busy with his projects at the end of last year so we kind of just fizzled out. And Jaemin has Jaehyun now, so there's my two hook-ups off the table. So yeah, been a bit of a dry spell."

"You don't hook up with Jeno?"

"Jeno only fucks alphas."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess." 

"You guess? If you don't want to, it's fine, Hyuck," Renjun says. There's a grey tone to the words, though he doesn't understand why. Renjun's giving him that know it all grin — there’s a glint in his eye. Nothing to suggest he’s against it.

“What? No,” Donghyuck rushes to say. Again with the almost letting it fall out of his grip. “It’s just a bit sudden.”

Renjun shrugs. “Carpe diem. What’s college for if not having fun?”

“Learning?”

“That sounds absolutely awful. I’m here to have raw sex and pass out in a pool of my own vomit, not learn anything. Christ."

“You’re charming.”

Renjun winks. “I know, baby. You don’t have to tell me that.”

Donghyuck is about to make a retort when the front door opens and Jeno calls out.

“Hello,” he says, lengthening the ‘o’ like he’s imitating a whale, “is anyone home?”

“We’re in the kitchen,” Renjun says. He raises an eyebrow at Donghyuck and pokes his cheek with his tongue, a gesture that by itself isn’t bad — but with the way Renjun’s been acting seems almost debaucherous. “Take your shoes off,” Renjun adds, when it becomes obvious that Jeno’s just thundering down the hall in his sneakers.

“I’m carrying things!”

“Is it boba?”

“Of course it’s fucking boba.”

“Deliver the boba, then take your fucking shoes off.”

“Come get the boba you lazy cunt?”

“ _ Language, _ Crocodile Dundee.”

“You haven’t called me that in  _ years! _ ” Jeno whines. Renjun’s got a shit eating grin on his face.

"You got a themed nickname for everyone?"

"Yeah, sure," Renjun says. "Jaemin's is asshole. Mark's is bigfoot, Felix is snotty…" 

"What?"

"Huh? Oh, his nose runs really bad when he eats spicy food."

"I… didn't need to know that. Why does Mark have big feet?"

"He doesn't, he's just the local campus cryptid. Jeno started a rumour in junior year that he was actually the ghost of a kid who got locked in the engineering lab and died. Now he just haunts the place and shows up if you pray in the mirror for help with Calc 3."

"Are you talking about Mark-foot?" Jeno asks, coming into the kitchen with a Gong Cha bag in hand. Renjun nods, eyes hungry where he watches Jeno drop the bag on the table. The look he's giving it is not unlike the look Donghyuck had received while he was fucking him — and honestly Donghyuck doesn't know how to feel about that. He supposes he _ has _ joked about boba being as good as sex before.

"Yeah. Hyuck was asking about him."

"He played into it one year. Actually did help some poor sophomore with their homework, was pretty nice. Now they really do think the lab is haunted. It's great for him, he gets to bum off all day long and watch anime without the kids judging him."

"No-one is gonna judge a senior anyway. I spent two hours recording Babymetal covers last month in the studio and some of them actually sat down and watched me."

"Watching Fruits Basket and playing an actual song are very different things. Now," Jeno reaches into the bag with a flourish and pulls out a cup. "Lemon slushie with pudding?"

"Oh you  _ are _ the love of my life," Renjun says, taking it from him with a smile. Jeno beams under the praise.

"No worries. Taro for you Donghyuck? No extras, 75% sugar."

"Yes," Donghyuck says. He takes the cup from him and places it down on the table to rifle through the drawer for one of Jaemin's metal boba straws — one of his strictly enforced efforts to reduce their waste. "How did you know?"

"Jeno knows everyone's boba preferences," Renjun says. He slurps up a mouthful of his slushie and smacks his lips. "He's like a wizard."

Jeno taps the side of his head. "I actually had to ask Renjun what you liked to make sure."

"Life saver," Donghyuck says. He doesn't miss the way Renjun smiles at him, eyes sparkling like sunlight reflecting off the surface of a lake.

"Figured you could use the energy boost after," Jeno pauses and coughs, gesturing vaguely between Renjun and Donghyuck. "You know."

Donghyuck inhales his drink way too fast and starts to choke, setting off a chain reaction of Renjun's laughter and Jeno flailing to ask if he's okay between profuse apologies, the tiniest flush creeping into his cheeks.

"I'm fine," Donghyuck wheezes. He's spilt a little of his drink and his throat is sore, but he's pretty much okay otherwise. Just surprised. "You knew?"

"Eh?" Jeno says. "Oh. Well. No, but Renjun texted me and asked me for boba so I guessed, yeah. He always craves it after he's been in heat."

Renjun glares daggers into Jeno's back, though when he turns around he gives him a wide eyed smile.

"Sorry about that, by the way," Jeno says to him. "Being out." 

Renjun shrugs. "It's fine. Don't worry about it. I'm not gonna fuck up your practice just because I'm in heat. I would have called Jaemin otherwise — or whatever. Where is he, anyway?"

"He went over to Jaehyun's," Jeno says, rolling his eyes. "When do you think they're gonna realise?"

"Geeze," Renjun laughs. "That's what. The third time this week."

"Fourth," Donghyuck says. They both turn to him.

"Fourth?"

"He was there Monday and Tuesday, and then he went home with him Thursday night after Anime club."

"Shit," Jeno says, raising his eyebrows. "You're right. Four times this week."

‘"We're just hooking up’," Renjun says, lowering his voice to imitate Jaemin. "God, they're both morons. At least it gets him out of the house."

"There's a bright side to everything," Donghyuck says. Jaemin isn't  _ that _ bad, but he can be a bit of a nag sometimes. A bit whiny. A bit of a 'I wish I could strangle you' kind of annoying — which Donghyuck means in the most loving way possible. If he hated Jaemin he'd just dream of throwing him out of a window instead. It's affectionate that he wants to close his hands around his throat.

"I'm glad someone here is positive."

Renjun slurps up a particularly large amount of his drink, cheeks bulging for a second while he chews on a mouthful of pudding.

"Are we still going out tomorrow, by the way?" he asks.

"That's up to you, Renjun," Jeno says.

"Well I'm gonna take a wild gander that me asking is me saying yes. You can't quarantine me, Jeno."

Jeno pokes his tongue out. "Well I've been burned before. Remember Carly Rae Jepsen?"

"That was legitimately the worst heat I'd ever had. At the worst time possible."

"It’s alright, I know the thought of seeing CRJ makes you go into heat. It’s okay to admit it."

"You were more excited to see her than I was. In fact, I remember you begging me to come along with you so you wouldn't look like an idiot. Like anyone would judge you for your taste in music. CRJ is a visionary."

Jeno turns bright red. "I wanted to go with you," he mumbles. "I like going places with you. I don't care about looking like an idiot."

There's a beat of awkward silence. Donghyuck hastily takes another sip of his drink and absolves himself of the responsibility of breaking it.

"Aww, man. Don't make me feel bad," Renjun says. "I like going places with you too, you idiot."

Jeno clears his throat. "Ah. Yeah." He's — he's blushing? It looks hilarious on him, and yet endearing at the same time. Donghyuck feels a surge of affection for him — accompanied by an urge to give him a huge hug. He's like a god damn puppy. "Well, anyway. Felix is coming too. He wants to spend more time with you too, Hyuck."

Well. That's a good sign. Donghyuck had felt almost  _ bad _ about how much he'd blown Felix off. He was supposed to be his big for God's sake. "I invited Jisung too," Donghyuck says. "He didn't express any interest in spending time with you, Jeno. But you know. I thought you should know too."

"Can you both stop roasting me?"

"How is that a roast?" Donghyuck laughs. He's sure Jeno isn't actually hurt — though he's probably tired. But he makes sure anyway.

"Don’t,” Jeno waves his hand and sighs. “Yeah, we're going out tomorrow. You're okay with driving still, right Hyuck? I'll take Felix and Jaemin, if he still wants to come."

"Sure. As long as I have GPS."

"You have Renjun. And GPS."

Renjun beams at him and makes a beeping noise. "Local GPS, baby! Yuqi's coming too, by the way. Her roommate's boyfriend is visiting and she wants to give them at least one day of uninterrupted fucking."

“She’s a real humanitarian.”

“Truly.”

Donghyuck takes another sip of his drink.

"Well. If that’s sorted out, I'm gonna go nap. Don't destroy the house," Jeno says. "We were gonna go out for dinner tonight if you're still keen, but I could understand if you two wanna take a break, you know?" He gives them both a smile and takes his leave, singing to himself as he walks back out to the landing and climbs the stairs.

"Well," Renjun says, after a pause of silence. Donghyuck takes another sip. "That was okay, I guess."

"What were you expecting?"

"Dunno," Renjun says. He shrugs and sweeps his eyes over the room, the gesture punctuated by a rumbling gurgle from his stomach. "Ugh."

“Do you want food?” Donghyuck asks. It's a sudden idea — a manic sort of impulse. Renjun pauses from where he’s started thumbing through a stack of papers Jaemin had left on the table.

“You know, I would really kill for some chicken right now.”

“How do you feel about Bonchon?”

“Donghyuck Lee,” Renjun says. There’s a wicked grin on his face. “Are you getting fancy on me? Is this a date?”

“It’s not a date you asshole. I was thinking of getting it myself.”

It's a cover-up. It's an excuse to spend more time with Renjun. He's blowing the attraction off as the aftereffects of the heat, but he figures it's fine for him to indulge it right now.

He hates the way Renjun is smiling at him. It’s insufferable — like he knows he’s getting under his skin just by existing. Like he sees right through Donghyuck somehow.

“You know I’m a sucker for boys with big trucks who take their dates to fast food restaurants.”

“Fuck off,” Donghyuck says. He rolls his eyes. “Do you want it or not?”

“Of course,” Renjun says. He drops the top paper and scratches at his nose. “Can I borrow your scent suppressants though. I’m fresh out and really not keen about going out like this.”

“Uh,” Donghyuck stutters. He hadn't considered that but yeah. Renjun fucking stinks. Like sex — and whatever else. “Sure? We can stop at CVS and get you some if you want?”

“That’d be great,” Renjun says. He glances down at his naked chest and frowns. "You reckon I should get dressed?"

"Again, sure? It's your body. If you're into that, then go ahead."

"I mean, I don't think we're close enough to the beach for me to get away with being shirtless. And I'm not hot enough for it, either."

Privately Donghyuck disagrees. Sure, Renjun isn't as fit as Jeno (which is the most unfair comparison ever, because Jeno is just flat out hot), but he's still  _ nice.  _ Though the peppering of bites and nail marks on his chest does give him a second pause. There's only so much the scent suppressants can do when it comes to hiding the fact that Renjun had just had the daylights fucked out of him.

Donghyuck too. Renjun had clawed him. The skin on his back is beginning to rise and redden and the fabric of his shirt irritates it every time he moves. He hopes it goes away, because he's not particularly pleased at the prospect of having to deal with irritation from having  _ heat sex _ . Christ.

"Get dressed," Donghyuck rolls his eyes. "C'mon. Before I change my mind."

Renjun smirks at him, self assured, and slinks away upstairs. Donghyuck just grabs his keys from the bowl by the fridge and wonders how the hell he got himself into this situation.

  
  


*

  
  


They don’t end up going out for dinner with Jeno and Jaemin — both because Renjun is still a little sore ("What, I'm human. I'm not a weird plastic doll.") and because Donghyuck honestly can't be fucked. He's tired most of the time — but sex well and truly takes it out of him. Whoever had told him his body was supposed to be able to take more of this was full of bullshit — there was no alpha stamina here. Just a tired college student who had wanted to kiss Renjun when he'd offered him a can of Red Bull from his minifridge.

"Your room's pretty nice," Donghyuck says. He's lying on his stomach on Renjun's bed, watching him as he struggles with the cables of his monitors — trying to unplug his Switch so they can hook it up to the 60" downstairs instead of Renjun's tiny TV.

"Thanks?" Renjun says. "I guess?"

Donghyuck shrugs and kicks his feet. It is pretty nice. There's band shirts framed on the wall and instruments  _ everywhere _ — a guitar with a broken string, a bass that looks like it's been collecting dust for at least a year, multiple drumsticks without a pair. There's a  _ flute _ on top of his bookshelf — which is stuffed with magazines and books and all kinds of collectables — the entire Percy Jackson series sits next to a limited edition statue of Balrog, which in turn guards a Kirby amiibo. His computer is set up on a black desk — though the paint has started to chip and strip in places and it's looking polkadot more than anything at this point. There’s stickers on the edge of his monitors and a keyboard leaning against the wall, a broken CRT TV being used as a stand for a dirty plate and glass and empty pizza boxes stacked on top of old textbooks. It's very  _ Renjun _ . 

"What do you mean, I guess?"

"I dunno. It's my room. What am I supposed to say? I think it looks like someone dropped a library on top of an instrument storage room but if you like it, sure."

"It looks like you."

"Are you calling me a mess?" He grunts and comes back up holding a cable, almost knocking his head on the edge of his desk. "Christ."

"You kind of are."

"I resent that," Renjun says. "I am not a mess. I'm organised chaos."

"You're a fucking mess, Renjun."

He doesn't know when they got this comfortable. Maybe everything that's happened has broken some kind of barrier within their friendship — they were okay bantering before, but Donghyuck feels well and truly safe now. He feels comfortable with Renjun.

"Eat my ass," Renjun says. He picks up his Switch dock and shoots a look back to Donghyuck. "Don't you dare fucking say it. Just don't."

"I already did that this morning," Donghyuck says, grinning.

"I'm gonna  _ beat _ your ass."

"I'd like to see you try."

"I will destroy you."

"You keep threatening," Donghyuck says, rolling off Renjun's bed and hopping to his feet to follow him through the door, "but you never follow through. Such a tease."

"It's a slow destruction. You have to be patient, baby."

"Oh, I'm your baby now?"

"You act like a baby. Crying all the fucking time. You're insufferable."

"That's rich coming from you."

"Will you shut up?"

Donghyuck cackles, aiming a light kick at Renjun's ass as they go down the steps together. Renjun just sighs — the eye roll isn't visible, but it's certainly audible.

They set up in the lounge. Renjun’s dragged his giant zebra print blanket down from his room and when he's all wrapped up in it he looks like a stupid burrito — top of his head sticking out, glasses glinting in the light as he swivels around to look at Donghyuck carrying a six pack of beer through.

"How are you supposed to drink like that?" Donghyuck says.

"Get me a straw."

"I'm not feeding you like you're a baby."

"Who said anything about me being a baby?"

"You're acting like one."

Renjun pouts and flutters his eyelashes. "C'mon baby. My big strong alpha, come look after me."

Donghyuck groans, though he can't deny the words have an effect on him. His stomach drops a little and he has to look away, feeling his cheeks heat up. "Do it yourself," he grumbles.

Like he's a fucking jack in a box, Renjun's arms pop out the side of his burrito blanket. He makes grabby hands and Donghyuck relents, popping the cap off a bottle and handing it to him.

"Thank you, dear," Renjun says with a grin.

"Yeah. Fuck you."

The rest of the night is nice. Donghyuck ends up leaning into Renjun — he's like a little furnace, tired and wrapped up as he is. He curls up against him and drains his bottle — it's nowhere near enough to cause anything but the lightest of buzzes, but it's nice. Being with Renjun is nice, he's a comfort. When they're not bickering (which — despite what Donghyuck thinks sometimes — is more often than not) they're in comfortable silence, or they're chatting, and chatting is just easy with Renjun. He seems to understand Donghyuck in some intrinsical way — knows how to push and pull with him, knows when to let him talk and when to fill in the gaps.

"Are you going back home for winter?" Renjun asks. Donghyuck nods. His cheek is snuggled up against Renjun's shoulder and he's stopped playing games a while ago. The pause screen has gone dark and his Joy Cons are sitting on the table, green lights blinking dull in the darkness. The sun had set a couple of hours ago, and there's still no sign of Jeno or Jaemin. It's just the two of them.

"Yeah," Donghyuck says. "I'll drive back down. Mom's missed me."

"What's it like?"

"What's what like?"

Renjun shrugs. He's looking straight ahead, staring at the unmoving screen of the TV. "Your family. Christmas with them."

"Oh," Donghyuck says. "Uh. I dunno. It's my family. It's nice, I guess? We have a Christmas dinner and Mom makes far too much food. She's done it since I was a kid — tells me it's the American way."

"Does she cook Korean food?"

"Yeah. She used to drive down to Dallas because there was no Korean grocer anywhere near us, but now she just makes the kimchi herself and buys those five kg boxes of gochujang. There's like three of them in the garage beside the fridge."

"What's your favourite dish?"

"What is this?" Donghyuck laughs. "Twenty questions?"

"Dunno," Renjun shrugs. "Jaemin always brags about his mom's cooking. Jeno does too. I always thought it was a Korean mom thing, but I've never heard you do the same."

"My mom's a good cook," Donghyuck says. "Yeah. I dunno. The Korean food here's so good it's like.. I don't miss it so much? It was like she was the only one who cooked it back there, but now I can just stumble into a random restaurant and get some bulgogi, you know?"

"It's in trend."

"I guess, yeah."

Renjun makes a noise — not any kind of emotion Donghyuck can read, just a noise.

“It’s bibimbap, by the way," Donghyuck says. "My favourite dish."

"That's like saying everything is your favourite dish."

Donghyuck shrugs. "There was a place near campus back in Dallas that I used to go to all the time. One of those self-serve all you can eat types. It reminds me of those nights. Feels carefree. When I was a kid, too, my mom used to make it for me all the time. She'd always let me squirt my own bibimjang and I'd always use far too much and end up crying because it was too spicy."

Renjun laughs. "Cute."

Donghyuck elbows him, but it's light. Without any real intent. "Shut up."

"You  _ are _ cute Hyuck. Time to embrace it."

"Shut  _ up _ . You're intolerable."

"You keep saying that, you know, but you're still here."

"I'm stuck with you. I'd leave if I could."

"I'm not stopping you," Renjun says. "But I know you won't."

Donghyuck shivers, goosebumps breaking out all over his skin. The temperature in the room has dropped, the sun taking most of the warmth with it, and he realises he's been leeching off Renjun's body heat for quite some time. It doesn't go unnoticed by Renjun, who pokes him with his foot.

"Cold?"

"Kind of," Donghyuck says. Renjun shifts and there's a rush of heat as he pulls the blanket out from underneath his feet, opening it up to Donghyuck.

"Want to steal some heat?"

"You wanna cuddle?"

"Can't be worse than anything else we've done."

"True," Donghyuck says. It's basically a backward progression at this point. Knot in his ass,  _ then _ cuddle him. 

Still, he hesitates for a second. Renjun wiggles his eyebrows and Donghyuck lets go of the hesitation, shuffling next to him and pressing up against his side. Renjun sweeps the blanket over him, covering his head with a laugh and forcing Donghyuck to punch his way out.

“You’re a shithead,” he says, shoulder barging Renjun and knocking him onto his side. He dives on top of him, wrapping his arms around him and pretty much attempting to smother him, to which Renjun starts to squirm and kick at him. He’s very bony and it provides a pretty good offence — Donghyuck relents, changing his grip to a little less boa constrictor and a little more soft cloud. 

Well, soft cloud if said cloud was 5’8” and built like an out of shape alpha. Which he is. Very out of shape, that is. Donghyuck remembers the challenge Renjun had issued him then dismisses it as still very much winnable. He’d heard how out of breath Renjun was after they’d fucked. 

“You can’t seriously call me a shithead when I’m pretty sure you just tried to crush me.” 

Renjun can’t face him — if he does he’ll basically be headbutting Donghyuck, so he’s more cursing at the ceiling. He’s almost on his back — Donghyuck is clutching his side, his elbow digging into the sofa cushions and his leg trapped under him. 

“I’m pretty sure I can do whatever I want. I have a permit.” 

Renjun huffs out a laugh. “Signed by yourself, right?”

“Exactly. I’m my own parent and-or guardian. A figure of authority.”

“I am never going anywhere you’re in charge of.”

“Aww,” Donghyuck laughs. “C’mon. You’d love it. I’m a party person. Anywhere I go is fun.”

Renjun makes a small sound — a ‘hmph’, his chest rising under Donghyuck’s grip. He  _ is _ warm. Pressed against Donghyuck like this it’s like he’s lying on something that’s been in the sun for too long, like Renjun is a little bit radiant. He wonders if it’s the remnants of his heat, or if he just naturally runs hot. 

“That remains to be proven.”

There’s a soft silence. Renjun takes a deep breath and lets it out, settling down a little more.

"You know I was worried about you," he says. 

"Why?" 

"Not like that. Just worried about you moving in. Jeno suggested we get one of the brothers to move in but no-one wanted to, so having to look for a stranger was kind of terrifying." 

"Ah," Donghyuck says. He gets it now. "You weren't sure about…" 

"Yeah," Renjun says. He shifts, moving backwards so he can roll over to face Donghyuck. "Why do you think Jeno was here when you got home? He had class but… I called him. Not that I can’t take care of myself but sometimes you need your wrestler friend there just in case. But uh. As for you moving in, well. Jaemin said you looked good, so I trusted it.”

"You trusted some idiot from the south?" 

"I trusted Jaemin. Not you." 

"You’d trust Jaemin?" 

Renjun laughs. "I know him. He's smarter than you give him credit for. And certainly the best judge of character I know. If he liked you, I figured it was okay."

Sometimes Donghyuck forgets that beyond all the stupidity and posturing and general attempts to make Donghyuck’s hair fall out that Jaemin is actually a pretty good person. He’s dragged Jaehyun out of bed and made him come to get Donghyuck in the middle of the night more than once — picked him up off the floor when he’s blackout drunk and carried him home. Of course Renjun trusts him. For all the stupid shit Jaemin does — for how much of a fucking douchebag he seems to be with his juul and his backwards cap and his Jordans and his penchant for picking a new catchphrase every two weeks and his disgusting overuse of emojis — Donghyuck realises he trusts him too.

"Yeah. I get that, actually,” he says. “Was it okay, then? Was he right?”

"I dunno Donghyuck, was it okay? You've only knotted my ass twice in the past 24 hours."

“Okay,” Donghyuck laughs. “Fair.”

“I should think so. You’re in my house and my personal space now, anyway. Consider that a glowing endorsement.”

Donghyuck turns his head sideways and grins, his forehead bumping with Renjun’s. “Glad to hear it. Glad to hear I’m allowed near you, Mr. Grumpy Pants.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Renjun says. His breath tickles Donghyuck’s face, exhaling sharply on the ‘p’. He looks funny up close — his glasses are off and his eyes are slightly unfocused, lips curved into a smile.

“You need to act more like it then.”

“I don’t know what you want from me Donghyuck. But if you’re not getting it now you’re not getting it ever.”

Here, like this, Renjun looks nice. He looks relaxed, glowing, every part of him that touches Donghyuck warm, limbs splayed over him, arms tucked against his chest. Donghyuck isn't sure he could want anything more from him, to be honest. It’s good to be around him in general — and to be around him like this — to be so close and comfortable — is even better. He’s a pretty simple person and Renjun provides so nicely.

The first kiss is soft. Renjun leans in, covering the few inches between them and pressing their lips together. He lingers for a second and Donghyuck breathes out, slow, his eyes fluttering shut. It’s a gooey feeling inside him — something he wants more of but he thinks he’s too tired to really chase. Renjun pulls back and pauses for a second, and then when Donghyuck doesn't protest he kisses him again. 

This kiss comes with a little more confidence. It’s more reassured but still gentle, a welcome break from the frantic paces their kisses had taken on that morning. Donghyuck grips at Renjun’s shirt, his other hand worming its way between them to cup at his cheek and receive a content hum from Renjun in return. His hand rises to splay against Donghyuck’s back and he holds him against him, kissing him over and over again until Donghyuck has practically turned to putty against him.

"This is nice," Renjun murmurs, his lips half an inch from Donghyuck’s face. Their limbs are all cramped between them and Renjun’s leg is halfway slung over his and all the parts of them that can be pressed together are pressed together and Donghyuck doesn’t know if he ever wants to leave. "Can we amend that agreement to include cuddling and kissing?"

"If you do I might never let go of you."

"Never mind."

"No. Wait. I just mean. I don't get to touch many people. Not like this." 

Renjun laughs, something small and soft. "No, I get it. Me too. Sometimes I almost look forward to going into heat because it means that at least someone will hold me."

Well. Donghyuck doesn't really know what to say to that. It's the most vulnerable he thinks he's ever seen Renjun be — a flash of his heart on display. It's tender and Donghyuck can't really answer (he doesn’t even know if he can) so he kisses him instead. He cups Renjun's jaw and does what he knows best.

It's not desperate. It's just simple, a need for human heat. A body next to his — only that body is his friend, not some stranger in a bed that doesn't belong to him. That body has meaning — he’ll see him again and again. He’s someone close to Donghyuck and he’s safe. He shifts a little more, Renjun’s leg properly hooking over the back of his thighs and pulling their hips flush together. He sighs and leans into him, testing the limits — slowly, slowly. 

It’s weird. So much has happened today. He’s already fucked Renjun — already kissed him and held him like the world was falling apart around him — but this is different. This isn’t under the influence of anything, this is just the two of them in a dark living room, blankets falling off their shoulders, sofa a little too small for both their bodies. It’s cramped and kind of awkward and Renjun’s elbow is digging into him and they’ve bumped noses at least five times but — it’s nice.

If Donghyuck was foolish enough he’d say it felt almost normal. They really were moving backwards.

Donghyuck tests the limits. He pushes his tongue against Renjun’s lips — so tentatively it kills him — and he’s rewarded. Renjun responds. He lets Donghyuck slip his tongue into his mouth, and it’s from there that everything deepens. Renjun’s hand moves from his back to his hair, grasping at it and holding Donghyuck against him. His hips roll ever so slightly, and he kisses him back with enthusiasm — not the hunger of his heat, but a similar kind of want. There’s a part of him that belies how tired he is, his movements lazy and slow, but it’s still seared with something hot. It’s still delicious. He’s grinding against Donghyuck and he’s kissing him, between pleased hums, tiny fluttering noises that almost sound like  _ purrs _ that originate in the back of his throat. He’s close and he’s content, and it settles in Donghyuck’s stomach with a glowing warmth.

They move as they kiss, readjusting, Renjun pushing against him, shifting around. His tongue is in Donghyuck’s mouth now, and he’s moved sideways, Donghyuck finding himself now jammed against the back of the couch. Renjun is half on top of him — and there’s something else that’s  _ half _ that he can very much feel against his thigh. 

“Renjun,” Donghyuck says, pulling away for a second to catch his breath. His lips are slick and wet, and he almost smacks Renjun in the jaw as he goes to wipe them with the back of his sleeve. “Renjun, do you…”

“Do I what?” Renjun asks. There’s something dark in his voice — Donghyuck smells chocolate in the air. 

“Are you tired?” Donghyuck asks. 

“Are you?” 

His hips roll as he says it and Donghyuck feels heat shoot through him, followed by sweat pricking at the back of his neck. Sort of, but. “Not really.”

“Good,” Renjun says. He’s smirking — god, it’s the devil’s smile. Maybe when he was in heat it was less alarming, but here it’s lucid and wicked and it crawls into Donghyuck’s brain and turns him fucking stupid. Renjun climbs off him, letting him slip down onto his back and practically rearranging his limbs for him before he’s back on top again, leaning over to bracket his face between his elbows as he kisses him with renewed fervour. He licks into his mouth, grinding his ass down against Donghyuck’s cock and laughing when Donghyuck gasps.

He takes control. After kissing Donghyuck silly — leaving him feeling like his brain is addled and liable to leak out of his ears — he shuffles backwards and climbs off him again.

“Sit,” Renjun says. “Don’t move.”

Donghyuck shivers — though it’s not from the temperature in the room. There’s something that crawls through Renjun’s voice, something that doesn’t leave any room for interpretation, for any of the comebacks that normally bite at his tongue. Renjun  _ makes  _ him listen. He unbuttons his shorts and pulls them and his boxers off in one go. They hit the floor with a soft thud, and then Renjun's back on him, straddling his thighs and pulling down his sweatpants to free his cock from his briefs.

"What do you think?" Renjun asks. He runs his fingers up the length of Donghyuck's cock, like he's examining him — like he's getting a feel for it. "You think you can go again?"

"Yeah," Donghyuck says, even though he has no idea if the answer is yes or not. He's intoxicated with Renjun — his scent is in his brain, it's seeping into his skin, it's driving him insane. He’s cut out against the light spilling from the hallway and his shirt hangs down over his legs and his hair falls over his eyes as he tilts his head forward, shuffling on his knees. He hovers over Donghyuck and reaches back to grasps his cock. There’s no preamble, no more foreplay — he lines himself up and sinks down onto him. 

He's wet. Insanely wet, slick making the slip of Donghyuck's cock inside him so so easily. There's no need to rock it in or take it easy, Renjun just sits down on him, straight to the hilt, letting out a little breathy gasp as he does so. Donghyuck instinctively lifts his hands to set them on Renjun's hips and Renjun’s hands close around them, holding him away for a second, then placing them on his skin.

“Let me,” Renjun says. Let him what, Donghyuck doesn’t know — not really — but he thinks he understands anyway. He leaves his grip loose and lets Renjun lead. 

And Renjun leads. Hands braced on his chest, knees bracketing his hips, head thrown back as he rides Donghyuck. He leans down on occasion — presses open mouthed kisses to Donghyuck’s face, pants into his mouth — but this is all Renjun. Donghyuck isn’t fucking him — he runs his hands up and down his sides, he jerks at Renjun’s cock for him, but he’s not fucking him — it’s Renjun fucking himself  _ on  _ him. He’s wet and he’s panting and Donghyuck can't get enough of him — he’s enchanted by him, by the noises he makes, the slide of his cock inside of him, the little growls and snarls and whines he lets out that aren’t even conscious. 

Renjun is blurred in the gloom, but he’s still so beautiful. The way Donghyuck’s hand looks closed around his cock, how his shirt has slipped down to reveal the fresh bite marks on his collarbones. Donghyuck wraps his hands around his waist and feels the subtle jut of his ribs — he focuses on Renjun’s body under his fingertips, the way he feels sinking down onto him — and a tremble overcomes him. He lets out a whine — something long and keening, like a steel on steel, a blade drawn along armour — and Renjun bows his head, digging his fingers into Donghyuck’s chest.

"Do you wanna knot me?" he asks. It coils through Donghyuck, slithering into a base part of his brain that wants to say yes forever. He gasps out a yes and Renjun grunts, leaning down on him, his nails sharp, his entire body taut. When he clenches down on Donghyuck it's like he's asking for him, and Donghyuck is so happy to give. With Renjun like this — with him in control, little gasps falling out of his mouth, his scent filling his senses — Donghyuck just loses himself. He lets Renjun in and he lets go.

Donghyuck pushes up into Renjun, his knot swelling up and fitting inside him with little trouble. It’s a rush of white noise in Donghyuck’s ears, sparks all over his body, little flashes that pop like firecrackers in the corner of his vision. A flood of heat and he spills inside him, legs shaking, muscles locking up. 

This time Renjun doesn't clamp down on him. He just keeps going — he fucks himself on Donghyuck's knot even as he’s coming down, a brief resistance and  _ pop _ everytime it passes inside him, low moans spilling from his mouth.

“You’re so good, Hyuck,” he says. “God, you feel so good.” He jerks himself off and Donghyuck can’t do anything but watch, completely dazed watching this beautiful boy on top of him.

Renjun almost falls off him when he reaches over to grab a handful of tissues from the side table — but then he's back and he's coming — clenching down on Donghyuck and letting his knot slip back inside him, his body tipping forward and the most beautiful breathy gasps wrung from his lungs. 

There’s a stretch of silence where they both just pant, Renjun seated firmly on his cock, tremors wracking him in spasms of his muscles that Donghyuck can feel around him. Renjun’s head is tipped forward and his hair is hanging over his face and he seems to be trying to catch his breath, before he leans forward and basically flattens himself against Donghyuck to press a shaky kiss to his lips.

"Both of us have beds like 30 feet away but instead we fucked on a blanket on the couch," Donghyuck says. 

Renjun laughs, sitting up and giving one last gasp as Donghyuck's knot slips out of him.

"Laziness is king." 

Donghyuck is vaguely aware of the amount of fluid streaked across his dick — mostly Renjun's slick — and the fact it's dribbled practically everywhere around his crotch, but he’s still giddy and hazy, melting into the cushions with every shift of Renjun’s weight on top of him. 

“Let me go clean myself up,” Renjun says. He grunts and climbs to his feet, picking up his pants then wobbling to the bathroom. It’s a few minutes before he returns, and Donghyuck doesn’t really spend those minutes thinking. He just closes his eyes and drifts off, bliss hanging off his limbs, his heartbeat slow and steady in his ears. 

God, Renjun is  _ incredible _ . He’s hot and he’s funny and he literally just rode him until Donghyuck’s brain basically dribbled out of his ears. He just  _ fucked himself on Donghyuck’s knot _ . 

What the fuck. What good deed in another life did Donghyuck do deserve this? 

“I can’t believe the amount of cum that just came out of my ass,” Renjun says, striding back through the kitchen. He flicks the lights on as he passes then takes a seat at the end of the couch.

“Really?”

“I’m just saying.” Renjun shoves at him. “You’ve got a lot in you. Alphas are fucking freaky.”

“Says the guy who just  _ rode my knot _ .”

Renjun grins. “No-one ever done that before?”

“No!?” 

“You have had the most boring hookups in the world then. You need to get out more. Or do they only fuck in the missionary position with the lights off down there,” he puts on a poor imitation of Donghyuck’s accent, “ _ in the deep south _ .”

“I’m sure they wish we all did,” Donghyucks says. “Probably better than fucking in the janitors closet.”

“Was that your school’s hot spot?”

“Yeah. Lucky the mop was there to clean up all the jizz, but unfortunately no-one seemed to take the hint.”

“You’re lucky yours was inside. All the couples would just jump the fence to the construction site beside my high school and inhale dust. It was so fucking  _ gross _ . They never even built whatever the fuck was supposed to be going in there, which is maybe a good thing because otherwise they’d have to deal with billions of dead children mixed into the foundation.”

“That’s metal as fuck,” Donghyuck says, laughing. 

“When I put it like that, yeah. It’s better than saying the concrete was probably 20% splooge. Which coincidentally is probably the composition of my blood right now.” He picks at his nails, then looks up and grins at Donghyuck. “Wanna take me out for dinner?”

“I don’t want to move,” Donghyuck groans. “There’s leftovers in the fridge. Make yourself a pizza or something.”

“Once again you’re an ungrateful bastard,” Renjun says. He doesn’t leave. He just brings his legs up onto the couch and kicks at Donghyuck until he moves over. “You should throw that in the laundry,” he adds, as Donghyuck rolls off the couch and takes part of the blanket with him.

“I know, I know.”

“And yet you’re just going to leave it on the floor.”

“I’ll do it later.”

Renjun huffs a laugh. “Yeah?”

“I promise.”

“Well if you’re gonna promise then sure.”

He leans down and tilts his head at Donghyuck, laughing when Donghyuck lets out a groan. “C’mon,” he adds. “You’re really that tired?”

“I’m not exactly in shape,” Donghyuck says.

“Oh. I know.” The shark’s grin is back, twinkly eyes and all. “That’s why I gave you a break.”

“That was a break?”

“Mmhmm.”

Donghyuck flops onto the floor and throws his arm over his eyes. He feels  _ exhausted _ . Too much has happened today — too many things for his brain to even begin processing them. He’s basically spent the entire day with Renjun and it’s like it’s causing him brain lag. He’s not even sure he’s fully let it sink in yet that Renjun is an  _ omega _ — let alone everything else that’s happened. Twelve hours ago Renjun was still in heat. 

Holy shit. Right, that was a thing too. Renjun had gone into heat. The memory hasn’t fully formed yet — it’s still in the forefront of his brain. Just how hot Renjun had been, how he’d burned up and begged for Donghyuck. How he’d  _ wanted _ him. Not Jeno or Jaemin — him.

And what was everything else? That fucking awkwardness in the bathroom? Jeno’s knowing smile when he’d come back home — like he’d known that Renjun would want Donghyuck. He feels like he’s missing something, yet when he looks at Renjun — lounging against the arm of the sofa with his phone in his hand — the nagging feeling goes away. When he looks at Renjun he kind of forgets everything. 

Has Renjun always looked this good? Sure, he’s fucking  _ glowing _ in the post orgasm bliss — but it’s not just that, he really does seem a little more attractice. There’s a rosy flush in his cheeks and he’s smiling slightly, browsing his phone and humming something under his breath that Donghyuck only catches every eighth or so notes of. He looks up and catches Donghyuck's gaze and his smile grows wider, eyebrows raised.

“What?”

Donghyuck rushes for the first thought that isn’t the verbal equivalent of a keysmash. “Are we still going out tomorrow?”

“That’s what I was just texting Yuqi about,” Renjun says, holding up his phone. “She’s saying Dejun’s been whining because he’s got a project he’s supposed to be working on.”

“Is that the roommate?”

“Yeah. He’s a good dude. He helped me with my final project last year actually, recorded the vocals and the guitar for me.”

“He sings?”

Renjun nods. “He’s more of a, y’know,” he makes jazzhands, “theatre singer but. He’s pretty great. I keep meaning to get him to record some stuff with me but every time I go over to see Yuqi he’s not there.”

Donghyuck nods. “You sure you won’t be too tired tomorrow?”

“You sure you won’t be?”

“True. Maybe I should sleep.”

“Let’s clean up first,” Renjun says. He untucks a leg and pokes at Donghyuck’s knee with his toes. “Eh? Otherwise you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Donghyuck for once agrees. He throws the blanket in the laundry and puts a load on, throwing in his clothes from yesterday and a bunch of Renjun’s sweat soaked shirts as well as whatever sundry is lying at the bottom of his washing hamper. He puts the rest of the beer in the fridge and flattens the cardboard into the recycling, then heads back to see Renjun spraying scent suppressant all over the sofa.

“Does that actually work?”

“Kind of.” He stops and glances down at the bottle — there’s a very large shiny sticker on it proclaiming a money back guarantee. “Jaemin has a super sensitive nose but it mostly works. He hates it when I leave my scent on stuff and I can’t really blame him. Apparently it smells like a wet dog when I’ve been in heat.”

“Wait, he can’t smell you?”

“You mean my scent? He can smell it. It’s just not pleasant.”

“You smell like chocolate to me.”

Renjun laughs. “Give it a few months. I’ll stink to you eventually, and you’ll stink to me.”

Donghyuck can't ever fathom Renjun smelling bad to him. He's absolutely intoxicating right now — still lingering on the tip of his tongue. He doesn't want to lose that — ever. 

"You said before that you could smell me all the time," Donghyuck says, remembering what he'd heard Jeno say earlier. "Is that true?" 

Renjun nods, frowning at his phone then switching the screen off. "Yeah. You smell nice. I didn't realise it was your scent for a while actually. Not until I went into heat and it was  _ there _ ." 

"Oh?" 

He shrugs. "I guess it's because you're new." He spritzes one last spray of suppressant into the air then sets the bottle down on the table. "You do have a lovely scent though. Anyone told you that? You're pretty floral for an alpha." 

"Yeah," Donghyuck says. "Not the floral part, but I've been told it's nice. It just smells like the prairies to me."

"Oh, I thought there was something grassy in there. I got a lot of wildflowers from you."

"Geeze, that does sound floral…"

"Not damaging your alpha sensibilities, am I?" Renjun laughs and gives him a smile, eyes twinkling. "It's nice to smell someone who isn't, like, wood or water for once. I swear half of California smells like pine." 

"Everyone smells like a swamp in Dallas."

"Regional scents are great, aren't they? You know what Mark's scent is?"

"Maple syrup?" 

Renjun laughs, something full bodied that comes with him smacking his hand on Donghyuck's shoulder, his touch lingering a little longer than normal. "No shit, it actually is." 

"Guess the stereotypes had to come from somewhere, right?"

"I genuinely didn't believe him until I finally smelled him without blockers, but he really does. It's so fucking funny."

Donghyuck grins and files the knowledge away for later. Mark is easy to torment — Donghyuck's current line of fun involves cursed memes that are usually met with a 'hahaha what the fuck' — and he knows the more he gets from Renjun (Bigfoot?) the more he'll be able to get under Mark's skin.

"Do you reckon people from Iowa smell like corn?" Donghyuck asks. 

"If I didn't know Slipknot were from there I'd argue that people didn't even  _ live  _ in Iowa."

"My uncle lives in Des Moines, otherwise I’d probably say the same thing. There's a giant shovel statue we drove past a couple of times that gave me a laugh. Gotta say I didn’t sniff anyone while I was there, though."

"Guess the corn will remain a mystery." 

Donghyuck forgets all about sleeping and he and Renjun end up sitting on the couch again, talking and talking until it starts to rain somewhere close to midnight. The first few droplets come in sheets, an ebb and flow that turns into a steady pitter patter, and Renjun breathes a sigh of relief when the sound persists.

"Thank god. Actual real rain," he says. A car drives past, its headlights spilling through the curtain in long strokes. "It's a miracle. Thought they were gonna up the water restrictions again." 

"Bad drought?" 

"Feels like we're always in drought but yeah. Summer was bad. Let's hope this keeps up."

To that Donghyuck yawns, sleep tugging back at his senses. They're supposed to be leaving around ten tomorrow, and he knows he'll probably be up another hour at least on his phone.

"You tired?" 

"A bit." 

"Wanna sleep?" 

Donghyuck grunts. He doesn't want to sleep because he doesn't want to stop being around Renjun. He's just so  _ interesting _ . Being around him feels right — like they've known each other for their whole lives instead of a few months. The conversation flows and Donghyuck becomes caught up in it, until he's hanging off Renjun's every word — teasing him and poking him and laughing at his jokes — utterly captivated.

"I don't wanna stop talking." 

"I'll be here tomorrow. We live together, remember?"

Donghyuck yawns again, stifling it with the back of his hand. "I guess." 

It feels weird mounting the stairs again. It's like there's a moment where everything crashes into him again, then the next step it disappears, again and again. He follows Renjun up, and they linger on the landing for a second, Renjun's hand on the stair bannister as he looks over at Donghyuck.

"I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" 

"Yeah," Donghyuck nods. "See you tomorrow."

"Don't forget to set your alarm."

"Alright mom."

"I'm just saying. You're my ride." 

Another pause. Renjun takes a couple of steps up the staircase then stops. The rain on the roof falls in a soft rhythm, a static background to what could almost be a still frame. Renjun stares at Donghyuck and Donghyuck stares at Renjun and he feels something settle inside him — something warm and gooey.

"Donghyuck," Renjun says. 

"Hmm?" 

"I'm glad you moved in."

Donghyuck breathes out a laugh. "Yeah. Me too. Goodnight, Renjun."

"Goodnight." 

They part, Renjun's door closing with a soft thud. The light flicks on and Donghyuck stays a little longer before going into his room, getting changed and crawling into bed. Despite his earlier assumptions he falls asleep with his phone in his hand, barely making it to the hour before his exhaustion washes over him like a great wave that drowns him in the darkness of sleep.


	4. In which Jisung learns what a drop bear is (and some other stuff happens, I guess)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaemin gets his head out of his ass. Jisung develops a crush. Renjun gives Donghyuck a parting gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brief warning for this chapter: it contains a sexual scene where both characters are not entirely sober. it's completely consensual, but i figured i should warn for it anyway.

Donghyuck wakes up in limbo — cocooned in his blankets while the rain patters on the windowpane. There's muted voices downstairs and mismatched piano chords coming from Renjun's studio and everything is dark and warm, like he’s crawled into a great big bubble — surrounded by the comforts of home, safe from the weather outside and all the other horrible parts of the world. There’s a dull ache in his limbs and his eyelids are like lead, and he pulls his blankets closer to his body, curling up and drifting back to sleep.

  
  
  
  
  


It's quiet in the house when he crawls out of bed. His thigh muscles scream in protest at every movement he makes and he practically hobbles out of his room before remembering he’s forgotten his phone — and then remembering he’s supposed to be going out today.

Oh fuck.

It’s past ten.

It’s past ten and they should have been on the way to LA right now but he’s literally just woken up. He scrambles to unlock his phone — face ID failing completely at recognising his face until he opens his eyes far enough to be considered a human being and not a bleary mess — and then opens up his messages to apologise profusely to Jisung. He scrolls up past a bizarre meme of a dog eating bread to see that Jisung has — oh. Wished him a good morning? Apologised about the weather?

Donghyuck looks up, as if he could see through the ceiling and confirm the fact that the sky outside was still grey. When he realises that’s not going to work he hobbles over to the window and pulls up the blind. His breath fogs the window, but it’s easy enough to see that it’s definitely still raining. A steady drizzle, falling all over their parched lawn and pooling in puddles on the neighbour’s driveway. He stops and watches it for some time, breathing in the cool air, before he texts Jisung back a sheepish thank you and reacts with a heart to the meme he’d sent.

Out on the landing he can hear that someone is playing music downstairs — something with a distorted guitar and slightly out of tune singing that is almost definitely indicative of Renjun's questionable taste in music.

Jeno's door is ajar, and when he pokes his head in he finds his bed unmade and his curtains open. There's a seagull perched on the neighbours roof that eyes Donghyuck warily, as if to ask why he's peeking.

"Just seeing if he's home," Donghyuck mutters. He leaves the door open and heads down the stairs — where he finds a guy who definitely isn't Renjun on his phone on the sofa.

It's the same sofa they'd fucked on last night.

Oh god, he's lying on it and Donghyuck can actually see Renjun's slick dried by the guy's head.

He stops dead in his tracks and of course the guy looks up at him then. Of course he smiles — dimples forming on his cheeks and his eyes sparkling. He's really, really attractive — like movie star level. Everything about him seems impeccable, from the soft waves of his hair to the boyish shyness in his face. He could easily be a lead in a romance film — the dashing love interest who shows up on their doorstep with roses in the pouring rain, ready to sweep them off their feet.

Donghyuck wonders if he's still dreaming, or if he's a little delirious. Maybe he should pinch himself.

"Hey," the guy says. Oh god. His voice is deep too. Fuck. Fuck. Just one word and Donghyuck wants to plow him into the sofa (that still has Renjun's slick on it).

Should he feel guilty about that? He just fucked another guy on the sofa and now he wants to fuck this guy on it too. Renjun is his friend with benefits, right? There's no exclusively for either of them. Donghyuck can plow as many asses as he likes without feeling guilty.

Ugh. It's too early in the morning for him to be having moral dilemmas.

Donghyuck raises his hand and tries not to limp as he walks over to the loveseat and flops down. "Hi," he says. "Do you know if Renjun's here?"

He's not really sure why he's looking for Renjun. Maybe to work out what the hell he's supposed to be doing today. LA was cancelled, Donghyuck kind of wants to go anyway. He's pretty sure he could rope Jisung into it, but having Renjun along would be nice too. The three of them in the rare California rain, exploring the City of Angels. That's cool, right?

The guy is still smiling. “He just went down to the store with Jaemin and Jeno."

Donghyuck groans and pulls his legs up to tuck them under his body. "Great," he says. He looks at his phone and then back up at the guy, trying with all his might not to stare at the slick stain.

He has got to be a beta. There's no way he couldn't smell it otherwise. Even through Renjun's borderline chemical warfare level of blockers there's still a slightly chocolatey scent in the air.

"Don't mean to be rude, but who are you?" Donghyuck asks, finally mustering up the effort. There's a nagging feeling at the back of his brain that they've met before but he can't work out why.

"Dude? Jaehyun?"

Oh fuck. That would be it. That would definitely be it.

"Whoops," Donghyuck says. Jaehyun laughs.

“You have been very drunk the few times we’ve met.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I always thought you were putting on your accent.”

It's Donghyuck's turn to laugh. "You're not the first person to say that."

"In my defence it was Halloween and you were wearing a cowboy hat. I thought you were just very dedicated to your costume."

"Nope. Texas born and raised."

"And here I was expecting you to all sound like Matthew McConaughey."

"Alright alright alright," Donghyuck says, shifting his accent slightly in a near perfect imitation.

Jaehyun laughs. "See, I'm not wrong now."

"No, you are not."

He smiles, mildly amused. Jaehyun has a nice aura about him — something vaguely calming. A little bit of antithesis to Jaemin's bursts of energy. Despite Donghyuck's complaints Jaemin was — by sheer numbers — technically the quietest member of the house. The problem came when he was switched on and it was suddenly like dealing with an eight year old on coke. Jaehyun seemed like the kind of guy who knew how to handle that — both the introverted Jaemin who never left his room and the energetic Jaemin who literally screamed at people in excitement.

There's a pause where the sound of the rain falling comes and goes in waves, before Donghyuck clears his throat, well aware he's about to stir the pot with his next question.

Or he would, if Jaehyun didn't beat him to it.

"Does Jaemin ever talk about me to you?"

It’s a relief. Donghyuck purses his lips before he answers. "I mean, yeah? You're hooking up, right?"

"Well yeah but… about anything else?"

Donghyuck knows where this is going. He's talked about it with Jeno and Renjun, been clued in on the history. A relationship that had started with a Grindr date and a blowjob in a carpark and had evolved into — this. Whatever they were dancing around now.

"He talks about what you guys do. You know, like your anime dates and stuff. Or about when you're going out together. Why?"

"Oh,' Jaehyun says. "Oh, no it's nothing. I was just wondering, you know. I don't really understand him, dude. But I thought I'd ask you guys because you know," he waves his hand. "You're his housemates. I was thinking of asking him if he wanted to take me to the semiformal. He's been complaining about not having a date for weeks and I thought I'd offer myself up."

"Wait, he hasn't asked you?"

"No? Why would he?”

“He told us he was going with you.” Like it was something god given. Jaemin had been talking about taking Jaehyun for weeks. He’d seemed so confident — to know he hadn’t asked Jaehyun was strange to say the least.

Jaehyun’s cheeks look a little pink and his eyes go wide. “You sure about that, dude?”

“Unless there’s another Jaehyun in his life, I’m pretty sure.”

“Oh.”

It’s a soft oh. One of realisation, maybe. He can see the gears whirring in Jaehyun’s head, and he feels sorry for him. To have something like that dropped on your head — it’s a lot to sift through.

“I don't know,” Jaehyun starts, and Donghyuck isn’t even sure if it’s aimed at him, or more of a general statement. “Jaemin's weird. If it gets too couple-y, I mean. I asked him if he wanted to spend Spring Break with me earlier this year and he jumped off the balcony of my house instead of answering. It's only like an eight foot drop but still I thought it was a pretty extreme reaction. After that though dude… I think he just doesn't like me. Not like that anyway."

"Oh my god." Donghyuck can’t believe what he's hearing. He can't believe Jaemin jumped off a fucking balcony to escape from his feelings. "Jaehyun…”

"I know," Jaehyun says, nodding. “I know. You get what I mean?

“I don’t pretend to take a vested interest in my friends’ relationships normally but Jaehyun. Jaemin is a fucking idiot. He likes you. A lot.”

"Oh," Jaehyun says. "Are you sure?"

Donghyuck wants to laugh. Yeah, Jaemin is fucking smart, but god. He's the perfect brand of stupid too. "Very sure. Fly and be free. Ask him to the semi-formal. Fucking ask him out please. The whole world knows except you two.”

  
  
  
  
  


He leaves Jaehyun on the couch, heading out to the kitchen to make himself some toast and — more importantly — relay what Jaehyun told him to the peanut gallery of Jeno and Renjun. All of them are like gossiping aunties at this point, but Donghyuck thinks it's hardly their fault. Jaemin is so fucking weird. The way he and Jaehyun are chasing each other around reminds him of one of those classic Scooby Doo cartoons where the gang ran back and forth through the doors running after the villain.

It's highly entertaining. Their own little reality show — complete with a happy ending.

  
  
  
  
  


"You've done a service to the people," Renjun says with an exaggerated sniff, saluting Donghyuck as he drops what are undoubtedly the mixers for the night onto the table and then digs around in his bag for a block of chocolate.

"I've done a service to myself," Donghyuck says. Renjun unwraps the chocolate and breaks off a square to hand to him and Jeno.

"Oh yeah. Well that's obvious. But I'm just saying," he gestures around the room, "you really have saved our asses. It was funny for a bit, but you haven't had to deal with it for the past year. He's such a miserable sod when he's pining."

"He's kinda cute," Jeno says. He nibbles at the chocolate and then — horrifyingly — takes a big bite out of it, chewing through multiple squares at once.

Donghyuck glaces down at the bit Renjun had broken off for him. Should he even be eating chocolate right now? He sniffs it, but it doesn't really smell like Renjun. Kind of plastic-y really — like if you described the taste of chocolate to a machine and had them recreate it. He figures it’s okay.

"You're only saying that because you're nice, Jeno," Renjun says.

Jeno shrugs. "Don't get me twisted, he annoys the piss out of me sometimes. I do think credit should be given where credit is due, though."

"Okay. Then please never say that to his face."

Donghyuck laughs. “Do we want to give the couple some space, then?”

“In this weather?” Renjun gestures to the kitchen window, which — beyond the smudges of the raindrops on the glass — shows a very depressingly grey vista.

“Sure? I kind of still wanted to go to LA, if that’s okay with you?”

Jeno and Renjun exchange a look — expressions unreadable — before Renjun groans.

“But it’s so far!”

It takes a bit of wheedling but Donghyuck does finally manage to get Renjun out of the house. Jeno swears on staying to defend the honour of his bed — but Donghyuck gets him too, physically picking him up by the collar of his jacket and dragging him out the door with the promise of both buying him lunch and letting him ride shotgun. They compromise on exactly where they're going — settling on Renjun's home neighbourhood of Pasadena — but Donghyuck had been promised an outing, and if he's been promised, then he wants it.

They pick up Jisung and head out towards on the freeway, the conversation naturally splitting into two. In the back seat Renjun and Jisung are talking about Renjun's work with the West Coast Omega Association — Jisung seems interested in joining — though Donghyuck's not fully listening because Jeno is up front talking about running away from a crocodile on his Grandfather's farm back home, and honestly it's a far more interesting tale.

“See, I reckon if I hadn’t spent half my childhood watching Crocodile Hunter I would have lost a limb,” Jeno says. He’d just explained how crocodiles — or, as he called them (in his hilariously broad accent) ‘crocs’ — could gallop, and how having one run at you (even if it was a juvenile) was positively terrifying. “I’m saying it should be required viewing for all kids. At least for me. I wanted to be Steve Irwin when I grew up so bad. I used to play around in the sandpit with my brother pretending we were catching wildlife.” He laughs. “Those were the days, eh?”

"Wait, back up. You got chased by a crocodile?" 

"Not really chased, more like he lunged at me, but he was a baby so no real harm done." 

"That's nuts, though. And they just lived on your granddad's property?" 

"Sure, we had all sorts of nasty buggers living in the bush up there. Crocs were just the start."

“You ever seen a kangaroo?” Donghyuck asks. Jeno laughs, again. It’s a good sound. Donghyuck would never admit it, but he’s rather fond of Jeno. There’s an earnestness to him that — capped by his crude sense of humour and breezy positivity — makes it near impossible to not like him.

“I’ve seen plenty of ‘roos. They’re not uncommon.”

“What about koalas?”

“Oh yeah. Bastards try to fucking crawl across the road all the time. You’re not allowed to touch them either and sometimes they’ll just sit in front of your car and stare at you like they know exactly how much of a pain up the ass they’re being.”

Donghyuck hums, trying to think of the next weird Australian animal on his list. The temperature outside has dropped, and it means the windows of the car have fogged up. Apart from the swathes cut by the windscreen wipers, any other view outside is composed of blurry lights that twinkle as they pass, and it’s impossible for him to get his bearings. “What about platypus?”

“You got me there,” Jeno says. The GPS beeps and Donghyuck slides over into the right lane to prepare for the turn off. “I’ve only seen them in the zoo. Weird little things. I thought it was a log at first until it started swimming. Weird, but cool as hell.”

“So what they said about Australia is true?”

“Depends what they said,” Jeno says. “Contrary to popular belief we do not have ground harnesses to stop us from falling into the sun. The drop bears _are_ true though. Those things are bloody nasty. I’m always worried when I go back home they’re gonna think I’ve become one of you lot and attack me.”

“What do you mean _you lot_?” Renjun says, poking his head between the seats and jabbing at finger Jeno. 

“One of you Americans. I reckon they’ll be able to smell the burgers on me.”

“Wait, what’s a drop bear?” Jisung asks. Renjun chuckles.

“They’re nasty bastards,” Jeno says. “Live in trees and attack tourists. There’s always a few injuries every year from them — usually some bloody yanks who think they’re just a myth. That’s how they get you.”

“Woah,” Jisung says. “That sounds scary.”

“Didn’t you hear everything in Australia is trying to kill you?” Renjun says. “Even the plants.”

“I thought that was just a stereotype.”

“It’s a stereotype _and_ the truth. Like Donghyuck and his cowboy boots.”

Donghyuck laughs. “Unfortunately. Though Renjun, I’m really surprised you’re not literally melting right now. Heard y’all can’t handle the rain.”

“I love the rain,” Renjun says with a sniff. “We just never fucking get it. It’s Jaemin that has a meltdown every time there’s so much as a drizzle.”

“Must be good for him to be sucking face right now. Then he doesn’t have to think about it.”

“Yeah, he’s getting something else wet,” Renjun starts, though he’s cut off by the timely beep of the GPS, and Donghyuck waves his hand in his face while he listens to the robotic voice tell him to take the next exit. “I could have told you that,” Renjun says as they pull off the freeway.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t give me attitude.”

When he checks his rearview Renjun flips him off, and Donghyuck has to bite back a laugh, knowing damn well that his ability to keep a straight face will pay off later. They pull off the freeway and immediately slow to a crawl, joining up with a traffic jam heading into Pasadena.

“Great,” Donghyuck mumbles under his breath. 

“Welcome to LA,” Renjun says with a laugh. “Get used to it. You’re not going anywhere quickly. Especially in this weather.”

“It’s just like being back home.”

The traffic in Dallas was beyond miserable. It got to the point where Donghyuck simply wouldn't leave his apartment unless it was the middle of the day on a weekday — or just flat out would cancel plans if it happened to rain.

The queue inches forward and Jeno starts flipping through the radio stations, consulting Jisung on what music they should play, holding his hand over Renjun’s mouth and trying to muffle his protests as Jisung argues the case for another pop princess.

“You are so gay,” Jeno says, laughing — though he complies with the request and then releases Renjun, who flops back in his seat with a thud.

“If you’re gonna torture me at least can we go to the dispensary while we’re here?”

Oh. Huh. Donghyuck had forgotten that was a thing. He sees the one in town all the time whenever he goes out and he’s become kind of used to it, but when he’d first arrived in California it had kind of been a shock seeing all the giant cannabis leaf signs everywhere. He’d barely even seen weed before he’d gone to college — now it's just a part of life. Renjun has a giant bag of sour gummies in his room and every party smells equally of weed and fruity vape smoke. He's regaled with tales of Jaemin taking an edible before his lecture and forgetting to actually leave when it's over, and one time Renjun had enthusiastically showed him his collection of pipes — including his current favourite, one streaked with every colour of the rainbow like some kind of gay acid trip.

"Sure?" Donghyuck says. "If that's okay with everyone else?"

There's a murmur of agreement from the car that settles into silence, before Jisung starts singing under his breath — and then Jeno joins him, with a lot less shame and a lot more gusto. In the rear view he can see Renjun roll his eyes, though there's a barely concealed fondness in his smile. Their eyes meet and it unfurls and Donghyuck can't help but return it, a warmth spreading in his stomach. The traffic crawls forward and Donghyuck lets out a content sigh, drumming one hand against the steering wheel, his eyes constantly flicking back to Renjun, who pokes his tongue out then laughs.

There's a warmth in the moment. A happiness, like he feels like he belongs. It's good. He wraps it up and tucks it away, holding it close to his heart, letting it keep him warm, even as the rain beats down around them and the sky holds a steady grey.

  
  
  
  
  


It’s a nice outing. Jeno elects to keep Jisung — who’s too young to enter — company outside and Renjun helps Donghyuck pick out some candy edibles before he makes his own purchase. They grab lunch at a cafe on the main street and Jisung sits beside Donghyuck and steals half of his fries and somehow manages to convince him to give him his milkshake, too. It's fair game, he supposes, because Donghyuck steals half of Renjun's pizza, spending the entire time playing a rather violent version of footsie that's absolutely going to leave him with bruised ankles.

They end up going to the Huntington Library on Renjun's recommendation. Jeno takes Jisung to the art gallery while Renjun and Donghyuck go to the library itself, and after they're gone through the exhibits (where Donghyuck tries really fucking hard not to nerd out over what amounts to a bunch of old books, much to Renjun's amusement) they walk through to the botanical gardens together. The drizzle drifts around them in a fine mist and the two of them huddle together under Renjun's umbrella, speaking in hushed tones like they'll disturb the strange silence that hangs in the air.

The concrete is slick with rain and the plants gleam, water droplets trickling off the willow leaves, ripples echoing across the pond surface as they stand on one of the bridges together in the Chinese garden. The garden is near empty and it's eerie — like they're the only survivors in a town made of sugar men, like everyone else has been melted away by the rain.

Renjun worms his hand underneath Donghyuck's jacket and wraps his arm around his waist, pulling them hip to hip as they walk towards one of the pavilions.

"I used to come here with Yuqi all the time," he says. His fingers dig into Donghyuck's side — a steady, comforting pressure. "We used to dip our fingers into the pond and try to get the koi to nibble on them."

"Did it work?"

"Sometimes. Mostly it was just about a distraction."

"Ah," Donghyuck says. It seems like there's more to the story but he isn't sure how to get Renjun to continue, so he just waits, praying that he'll open up for him. The gravel crunches beneath their feet and the wind rustles in the leaves, a solemn song Donghyuck hasn’t quite learned the words to yet. It’s enough to fill the silence, until Renjun seems to catch the thread of the conversation again and continues on.

"It got hectic at home. I lived with her for my last year of high school and it was a bit too much for her mom sometimes. Not that she ever said it, but you could tell. So we'd drive here every day after school instead."

"You lived with her?"

Renjun laughs, though it's slightly bitter. He glances around them, as if he's checking to see if they're being watched, then flashes Donghyuck a smile. "Yeah. It's a long story. Let's just say my mom isn't fit to take care of herself — let alone another human being."

The rain patters down in tiny footsteps on the webbing of their umbrella and Renjun presses himself against Donghyuck, fabric of his jacket crinkling.

"I'm sorry," Donghyuck says.

"You have nothing to apologise for. Not your fault she's the way she is. And as much as she's tried to convince me otherwise, it's not mine, either."

They stop under one of the pavilions, the deep varnished brown of the wood dull in the afternoon light, leaving their own wet footprints against the dirty concrete alongside duck feet and what must have been a family with a small child before them. Renjun leans his head on Donghyuck's shoulder — just for a second — before he catches himself and stands up straight again.

"It's nice to be back though."

"Even in this weather?"

Renjun laughs. "This weather is a damn rarity. You live here long enough and you'll get sick of sunshine every day, too. I wish we could be here when it was sunny, sure. But even right now it's nice. It's nice being with you. It's nice knowing that even if the weather's miserable or I've got soggy socks — or whatever. It's nice knowing I can still enjoy myself."

Donghyuck stops and looks at Renjun. Actually looks at him — not a fleeting glance when he's trying to pretend he isn't staring at him, not meeting his eyes as they're talking, not checking to see if he's still at his side. Something like he’s seeing him for the first time before, piercing past the veil he likes to surround himself with.

The grey sky reflects in his eyes and his breath fogs slightly and there’s condensation flecked across his glasses and he's still gorgeous — sloping nose, a slight innocence to his smile, shaggy hair falling over his face even as he tosses it back. There's a beauty there but there's a melancholy too — and he thinks it might be a trick of a light but there's something twisted up in that, like there's a weight that hangs on Renjun's shoulders he hadn't noticed before.

Renjun returns the gaze and gives him a smile — pursed lips, the corners of his mouth barely turned up. It reaches his eyes and it gives Donghyuck motion sickness for a second — this swirling sadness combined with the glint of something wild. Something bittersweet.

Donghyuck freezes for a second when Renjun leans over to him and presses their lips together. It's not a deep kiss — not a kiss that really has meaning — but it's a kiss that shouldn't happen. There's no reason for it. They're in public, huddled under a pavilion in the grey rain, not a soul around them except for the koi drifting through the pond water.

It's a kiss that doesn't have any follow up. Something of familiarity. Something that — when Renjun draws back and gives Donghyuck that same tired smile — makes his heart jump.

A thank you? A promise? Donghyuck doesn't know. He likes to think that he's good with people, but Renjun continues to confound him.

  
  


*

  
  


Donghyuck doesn't want to be here. He feels fucking unwelcome, despite the sign (bright pink) that very clearly says 'All Welcome'. He keeps staring at it, like maybe it'll invite him in. Save him the fucking embarrassment.

He could just text Renjun and tell him to come outside, but Renjun had explicitly asked him to come in. Like he’s a fucking vampire. Like he needs permission. Come in Donghyuck. Come on in to my super secret special omega space.

Fuck. Donghyuck has been lingering way too long. He has to go in before someone thinks he's a creep here to leer on omegas. He raises his hand to knock on the door, then withdraws it.

No. Maybe he should message Renjun. Fuck. They're supposed to be going back to the frat house to help Kun out with the final preparations for the party tonight and he knows Kun would hate him to be late — he'd probably just give Donghyuck that sweet smile that made him feel like someone had poured ice water over his head. But Donghyuck doesn’t want to go in. It’s not his space. He doesn’t belong.

Before he gets the chance to continue the (raging, incredibly important) debate in his head a boy comes up behind him and reaches out for the keypad, then pauses and looks up at Donghyuck with an eyebrow raised.

Donghyuck is taking aback, because the boy is really really fucking pretty — his hair is dyed firetruck red and his clear dark eyes sparkle slightly. He reminds Donghyuck of Renjun in some way — there’s a self assured aura that practically glows around him. His jeans are designer and he’s wearing ankle boots and a navy blue hoodie that says 'West Coast NOA Youth Convention 2019'.

"Hi," Donghyuck says.

The boy smiles at him. "Hi. Do you want to come in? Sorry, we usually keep it locked to stop people from harassing us."

"Ummm. I'm looking for my friend. He told me to meet him inside."

"Oh?" He raises his eyebrows and readjusts his grip on the stack of papers clutched close to his chest.

"Uh. Renjun?"

"Renjun Huang? You're his friend?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says. “Do you know him?”

It seems like that was a stupid question. The boy laughs. “Everyone knows Renjun.”

Of course everyone knows Renjun. Donghyuck feels a bit stupid as soon as he hears him say it. Of course Renjun has friends in other places — his music friends, his omega friends. Donghyuck is just one part of his life — it stands to reason that he’s well known in other places. Renjun is brilliant after all — who wouldn’t want to be a part of his light?

“Do you want me to get him for you? You can come inside, I promise we won’t eat you.”

“I’m an alpha,” Donghyuck says, feeling stupider by the minute. The boy laughs.

“We won't hold that against you. It does say all welcome—” he points to the sign. “—and we do mean it. Plus, if you’re Renjun’s friend, I’d at least trust you.”

“Oh. Uh.”

He finds it hard to resist. The boy is dazzling and warm — a little bit of glitz in the weak winter sunlight. Everything about him tells Donghyuck he’s probably the funniest person at the party — and it seems like he knows Renjun well. It's enough to put his trust in him.

“Yeah, okay,” Donghyuck says. He receives a brilliant smile in return and the boy keys in the code to open the door, stepping through to hold it ajar for Donghyuck and bowing as he passes him.

Donghyuck's not sure what he expected the inside to be like. Some kind of wild flower meadow? Some HQ or forbidden land? A bunch of omegas in a cuddle pile?

Instead it's just a room. Wide and open, filled with beanbags and couches and tables stacked with magazines. There's a giant omega sign painted in white on one wall that's surrounded with hundreds of polaroids — clustered so tightly together they all overlap into a kind of kaleidoscope collage. A couple of girls are sitting on a couch together with their phones out, talking to each other without making eye contact, and on the floor in front of them someone has their laptop out and is watching a movie.

There’s streamers everywhere, more fliers for meetups and resources. A large poster stating ‘Claiming is not romance’ is framed by multiple smaller ones — Pro Bono lawyers, resources for transgender Omegas, a call to write in against the Safe Homes bill (Donghyuck remembers this one — a proposition that would force claimed Omegas to complete therapy before breaking a mating bond. Basically bullshit. He was uneducated, but even he knew anything that made it difficult for omegas to break bonds was a lot of crap)(Shit, he was starting to realise in general that bonding maybe wasn't as great as he'd been told it was. Though maybe that opinion was affected by a rant a very stoned Renjun had delivered to him once.)

Against the far wall is a set of bookcases almost overflowing with magazines and books, and below it sits a table with a hand drawn sign to ‘take one’, a cartoon hand pointing to a small stack of pamphlets about myths on pheromone effects. There's a window opposite with a view out over the quad and as Donghyuck is looking the boy walks towards it, then looks back to make sure Donghyuck is following.

"You wanna stay here?" he asks. Donghyuck shakes his head, praying like hell he remembered to slather on his blockers. He usually does these days — Jaemin's nose is enough for him to be self conscious of stinking up any shared space. Still, surrounded by omegas might be the worst possible place to forget. If he gets nervous he's done for — as it is he's already sweating.

The room winds to the right — there’s a door on the wall that seems to lead to an office — and then it opens up to another lounge with a computer, television and a set of couches. Renjun is sitting in a swivel chair and with his back to them, talking to Jisung — who's using a photocopier in the corner of the room, features knit into a frown as he stares at the controls.

"Hey Renjun," the boy says, interrupting him speaking about something that had happened in 1960. "Found this guy outside. Says he knows you?”

Renjun spins in his chair so he's facing them, face expectant, then rolls his eyes. “Oh, I know him. Hello Donghyuck. How long were you out there for?”

“Just a few minutes,” Donghyuck says. Renjun snorts.

“Alright. Well. Glad you finally made it. Glad Daehwi was able to rescue you from,” he waves his hand, “whatever was paralysing you from knocking on a door.”

Daehwi giggles. “He looked pretty lost, you know. You doing adoptions these days, Renjun?”

“No, I got saddled with this one.” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder at the couch. “Take a seat if you want Hyuck, shouldn’t be more than ten minutes.”

There's an inexplicable comfort that he feels upon seeing Renjun — like just the sound of his voice is enough to soothe his nerves. He's only too happy to listen, and as he sinks into the cushions he ends up caught in a conversation with Jisung, who is only too happy to explain to him the Chinese homework he's photocopying.

"So Daehwi let me borrow his textbooks. I've been having troubles with radicals right? But I think if I nail this I might be able to pass my quiz and I'm actually really close to an A and I think that would be super cool. I mean I only took it for,' he makes a gesture, "credit you know. Because I'm undeclared. But I really like Chinese. I like learning languages. I took French for like four years in high school now and I kind of forgot a lot of it but I think it would be so cool if I learned a bunch of languages. Korean and English are cool but like. I could be a translator or something!"

It all comes out in one very typical Jisung-esque breath, Jisung bouncing on the balls of his feet while the photocopier spits out pages beside him. He's grinning and giddy and Donghyuck's heart absolutely bursts with fondness at it all — at seeing him get excited about something so earnestly.

"What do you think?" Jisung says.

"I think that's fucking awesome, Jisung."

"Really? I'm not sure."

"I think if you like it, you should do it."

Jisung smiles, something that makes Donghyuck's heart turn to goo. "Okay! I'll talk to my academic advisor."

Renjun finishes up whatever the hell he's doing on the computer and gets Donghyuck's attention by way of throwing a balled up piece of paper at him, like he's a fucking high schooler with a crush.

"What?" Donghyuck says.

"You wanna bounce?"

"You could have just asked me that?"

"More fun this way."

Donghyuck rolls his eyes but he gets up, shuffling over to where Renjun is packing his laptop back into his bag and peering over his shoulder. "Is Jisung coming too?"

"Yeah. And Daehwi. Is that cool?"

"No sweat off my back."

Renjun turns to him and smiles. His face is close — a little too close. Donghyuck can see his reflection in his glasses and he's uncomfortably aware of the fact that he could very easily kiss him right now — he'd barely have to move.

He doesn't know why it bothers him. He doesn't know why it sticks in his brain, even as Renjun turns away and goes back to picking up his things. He's done plenty with Renjun — plenty more than just kissing him. It shouldn't concern him at all.

And yet it does. Like so many things about Renjun it sticks in his mind, and try as he might, Donghyuck can't shake the feeling he's missing something.

  
  


*

  
  


Jungwoo is on the couch when they get to the frat house, snoozing with his ethics textbook flat on his face and his homework scattered on the floor. Renjun drops his empty coke can on his chest (alongside a chocolate bar that must be melting at this point and a flier for a Christmas party) as they pass, waving to a guy Donghyuck recognises as being dressed like a Christmas tree at the Halloween party.

Up top they're not the first to arrive in the meeting room. Felix is already there, chatting with Changbin and Jeno — who all wave when they see them arrive — and sitting in the seat by the window is Kun, glancing back and forth between the laptop in front of him and his phone. He looks up when they enter the room and frowns, then breaks into a grin as he takes them in.

"Daehwi. Good to see you again."

"Hey, you too gege."

" _Gege_ ," Jisung repeats, though it's under his breath and more to himself than anyone else.

Kun is positively beaming. "So you're coming 'round tonight?"

"Of course," Daehwi says. He pulls out a chair and sits down at the table, immediately crossing his legs and resting his hands on top of his knees. "Don't think I'd miss it for the world."

"Been a while since I've seen you around. Here I was thinking you'd forgotten about us."

"Oh no. Renjun would ensure that never happens."

"You're talking like I'm insufferable," Renjun says with a roll of his eyes. Donghyuck elbows him.

"You kind of are."

"Says you! Listening to you talk puts me in fight or flight mode."

"And yet you still willingly spend time with me. Funny that?"

"You're my government mandated ball and chain."

"That's what I saved your number as, actually," Donghyuck says, going to take out his phone then remembering he'd actually saved Renjun with a heart emoji beside his name — and like hell was he revealing that info.

"Guys," Kun says. "Spare the bickering for the bedroom. Do you know where Jaemin is?"

Renjun shrugs. "I'm not his mom. I think he's with Jaehyun?"

Kun groans. "Of course. It's fine. Did you guys drive here?"

"Yeah, Donghyuck did."

"Then you think you can pop down to the liquor store and restock us? I sold a bunch of our handles to CSA for Minghao's birthday but haven't had a chance to buy more."

"Do I get the credit card?" Renjun asks.

Kun sighs. "No, I'm going to make you pay for it yourself." He pulls out his wallet and rummages through until he pulls out a card, which he waves around in the air. "Cool?"

"Cool," Donghyuck says. Renjun reaches over and grabs the card with a flourish.

"I'll text you what we need," Kun says. As they leave Jisung takes the seat next to Daehwi, shuffling closer to him and leaning over to try look at what Daehwi has open on his phone. Renjun lets out a snort, corralling Donghyuck out of the door and pulling it shut behind him.

The drive to the liquor store is quiet. Renjun gets control of the AUX and plays his latest indie rock obsession, which Donghyuck begrudgingly admits is actually pretty good. There’s some idle chatter about their classes, in which they both pretend they’re not panicking at the very real looming threat of their coming exams, but mostly it’s silent. Just the hum of the engine and the city rushing past them outside the windows, the pale blue sky streaked with clouds and flocks of birds that wheel in circles above the rooftops. 

Donghyuck likes talking to Renjun, but he likes moments like this too. A silence that isn’t awkward but surrounds him like a blanket — the two of them co-existing, drifting through the world together.

The cashier doesn’t even blink twice when Donghyuck pulls up to the counter with what must be at least five hundred dollars worth of hard liquor, just asks for his ID and diligently scans the bottles. Donghyuck has to head back to his truck to grab the reusable bags and when he comes back Renjun is paying with the chapter card, chatting about the party and grilling the cashier (who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else) about what _her_ 80’s themed costume would be. Donghyuck pokes him in the side and asks him to help him pack everything up, smiling at the cashier as he does. Renjun wheels the trolley out to the carpark and Donghyuck apologises one last time to the cashier, who just laughs.

“It’s alright,” she says. “He’s pretty funny. Is he your boyfriend?”

“God no,” Donghyuck says, though he panics the second he says it, checking to make sure Renjun isn’t in earshot. His cheeks are hot and he plays it off with a dismissive wave. “No. He’s my roommate.”

“Shit,” she says. “Sorry. Enjoy your party though, yeah? Looks like you’re gonna have a good time.”

“I hope so,” Donghyuck says. He hurries out the sliding doors, into the balmy November air, his stomach twisted into knots. Renjun taps him on the calf with his foot as he passes, and when they make eye contact he gives Donghyuck a blinding grin, eyebrows raised. 

“What took you, eh? Making me do all the work?”

“Thought you were a big strong independent omega?”

“I don’t need to prove that to you though, do I?” Renjun says. He loads the last bag into the back and pushes the trolley towards Donghyuck, who catches it and pokes his tongue at him, though for as casual as the gesture is there’s still nervousness prickling all across his skin. 

Had they been acting that close? Surely not, right? They’re just friends. A little touchy — but Donghyuck always has been. Everything is easy between them, and though there’s definitely that crack of sexual tension, it’s not like it’s entirely unresolved. 

It’s pointless. Not worth thinking about. When he gets back to his truck Renjun is sitting shotgun, hounding him for taking too long then pouting when Donghyuck yells at him for putting his feet on the dashboard. It’s all playful — a spark of mischief in his eyes, and as Donghyuck hits the ignition he feels it melt in his stomach. There’s just something good about Renjun — something nice. That’s all it is.

  
  


*

  
  


By the time the guests have started to flow in and the music has been turned up, Donghyuck's already a fair few drinks in, solo cup with his name scrawled on it clutched tight in his hand, armpits starting to sweat under his shitty leather jacket. As with all parties it feels like someone's cranked the AC up a notch too high and he's already considering just dumping his outerwear in the meeting room (which is doubtless going to become a temporary coat check before the night ends), but for now he decides to brave it. He knows where the thermostat is — but he also knows Kun has probably locked it up, and he's really not in the mood for begging him for the key.

Renjun would probably have way better luck getting that one to work, anyway. Kun really likes Renjun, though Donghyuck's not quite sure why. Whenever he quizzes him about it Renjun just gives him a wink and a smile, maintaining that infuriating air of mystery Donghyuck's begun to learn just hangs off him so easily. For all he knows about Renjun — for all the fucking times he's fucked him and lay in the afterglow mumbling his secrets to him — there's so fucking much he keeps hidden. There's so much they don't know about each other — really. They've barely scratched the surface, and there must be a million stories Renjun has left to tell — a million little secrets hidden under his skin.

Is it weird Donghyuck wants to know them all? There's something about Renjun that's so fascinating like that. Like he's made up of all these little glittering pieces — like even the mundane is golden to Donghyuck. He wants to know him down to the bones — understand how he moves and ticks, what's made him the person he is.

Right now he's ticking on vodka, probably. The eighties theme for the party really meant Renjun could have worn anything he wanted — shit, he could have literally rolled into his closet and walked out with whatever he'd found in there on — but he'd still gone all out. Chain shining on his chest, hideous paisley print shirt with far too many buttons undone hanging off his shoulders, his jeans too long and his scuffed Vans doodled with markers like he's some fucking Instagram kid.

(He's not, by the way. Donghyuck's seen his Instagram and it's literally all concert photographs or pictures of his instruments).

Donghyuck had gone in the opposite direction and he's starting to regret it. His pleather pants are sweaty and he's probably going to be swimming in the them by the end of the night and he doesn't want to have to peel them off his thighs after hours of fucking dancing or whatever the fuck they're supposed to be doing tonight. He's kind of terrified of getting a rash, most of all. The idea of hobbling around campus is not a pleasant one, and probably also one that's gonna draw a lot of giggling laughs.

How embarrassing would it be to admit he was hobbling not because of the ridiculous amount of sex he's having (which it is — ridiculous, the amount of sex he's been having. Like he's a horny teenager again) but because of a rash from an ill advised costume.

At least Jisung would find it funny. Mark too, probably. Donghyuck doesn't like being down the other end of Mark's jokes — mostly because Mark is so unfunny that it creates some kind of horseshoe effect where his jokes are suddenly the funniest fucking thing in the universe, and he really doesn't want to be laughed at that much.

God, he's missing Mark right now. He'd dismissed the party invite the way he'd dismissed every other one of Donghyuck's party invites — by saying he had a super important project due. Donghyuck's not sure if he's lying or not — he'd asked Renjun and Renjun had said it was probably true. Engineering did seem like some special kind of hell on Earth where they tried to physically bury you in an avalanche of homework, but surely there was time for Mark to party, right? Everyone likes partying. And despite how much of a wet noodle Mark seems to try to pretend to be, he knows Mark does party.

According to Renjun he'd been a wild partier in his sophomore year — well known for not letting his whacked out omega metabolism stop him from shotgunning every form of alcohol known to man. The bathroom with the broken door on the far end of the house was apparently Mark's fault — a result of him literally sticking his giant head through the door and no-one wanting to repair it. Like a little memorial for his stupidity.

"When's Jisung coming?" Renjun asks. He's sitting on the couch beside Donghyuck, legs tucked up underneath him, watching the hypnotic show of Jungwoo grilling every new guest on their identity with his eyes slightly glazed over. His cup is empty — Taeyong is on the bar, which means any mix is going to be hard and loose and liable to knock him over in one shot. He's already a cup deep and Donghyuck isn't quite ready for the sloppy huggy Renjun to return. He likes him like this — where he's still lucid, but his tongue is a little slippery, liable to deliver playful jabs but sharp enough to edge them with his razor wit.

"He said he'll be here soon," Donghyuck replies. He checks his phone again. Jisung is bringing Chenle, apparently — his semi-formal date and all around 'cool guy'. He's not entirely sold on that description, mostly because from what Jisung's told him of Chenle all he does is play videogames and eat doritos, but he does trust Jisung's judgement. He swears he has some kind of sixth sense when it comes to people — like a gut instinct on steroids. If Jisung likes Chenle, then Donghyuck takes it at face value.

"Nice," Renjun says. "Good, good. You stay here. I'm going to go find more drinks."

  
  


*

  
  


Renjun's gone. He's gone — off with Jeno somewhere, off to hang off the balcony and smoke weed, probably. Donghyuck will chase him up when he's horny and drunk enough to not care about fucking in whatever gross room of the house they can find, but for now it's him and Jisung and Jisung's friends again.

Jisung's friend. Just the one.

Chenle is — nice. His hair is dyed bleach blonde and teased at the ends and his roots are showing through and he's dressed like he's from fucking Judas Priest — all leather and studs and black and boots with a completely unnecessary heel considering how tall he already is — and everything he does seems to be without a lick of shame. It's a breath of fresh air. An antithesis to the moody grouchy kids that are currently swimming around him, bemoaning their upcoming finals while clutching a cup full of some unholy mix of alcohol.

He laughs and grins at Donghyuck, raising his cup to him. They're matching drinks right now, tit for tat, Donghyuck picking a fruity kind of vodka that Taeyong had assured him had tasted pink (it didn't, but the last thing he was going to do was to let Taeyong down and tell him as much) as their drink of choice. Chenle is lax and warm and he has an arm slung around Jisung's shoulder — though Jisung isn't looking at him. He's talking to Taehyun and fully not paying attention to either of them, gesturing wildly and saying something Donghyuck can't understand over the din of the party around them.

God, he can barely understand Chenle at this point. They'd been talking about basketball but the combination of a lot of alcohol and a lot of noise means Donghyuck might as well be underwater right now. He tips the last of his drink in his mouth, upending the cup and splashing his nose with a few drops of vodka before he shakes the cup and gestures at Chenle.

"Do you want to go outside?"

Chenle glances back at Jisung and shrugs. "Sure," he yells, copying Donghyuck and finishing the last of his drink. "Are we getting more alcohol?"

Donghyuck isn't sure about that one. He's in a comfortable state right now — drunk, but still lucid. The room isn't spinning and he doesn't want to kiss everyone in the vicinity, and he figures that's safe enough.

"Save it for later, I think," Donghyuck says.

The balcony is crowded — people huddling around the heaters and smoking off the edge, clouds of fruity vape smoke lingering in the air, a group of girls all dressed like Ziggy Stardust sharing a blunt and blowing the smoke into each other's faces. He and Chenle sit down on the far end of a ragged couch he vaguely remembers Jaemin talking about saving from being set alight and Chenle grunts, shaking out his hair and sending a few flakes of glitter fluttering into Donghyuck's lap.

"God, it was loud in there," he says.

"Tell me about it. I thought my eardrums were gonna burst."

"I could feel the tinnitus racing up to meet me. Like an oncoming car but like — worse.”

“Listen, I’ve been to a raceway before,” Donghyuck says. “Felt almost the same way, to be honest.”

“Yeah?” Chenle says. “What’s that like?”

Donghyuck is only too happy to explain, and in the warmth of the heater blowing onto his back he loses track of his story a few times — though Chenle just smiles and nods patiently, all the metal on his outfit clattering like a draw full of paperclips. He might be drunker than Donghyuck had realised — both of them, really — because at one point Donghyuck just zones out and stares at the Ziggy troupe, nodding his head before he realises Chenle isn’t talking.

The couple that had been making out on the swinging seat beside them (in the prime spot of right under one of the giant heaters) leaves — Donghyuck doesn’t want to think of where they’re going — and Chenle drags him over, taking up their spot and splaying out across the warm cushions.

“I think this is the best spot in the house,” Chenle says. Donghyuck is inclined to agree — at least when it comes to the outside. The temperature has started to drop — winter is well and truly here — and any spot this close to something warm is at a premium. “Now…” Chenle starts. He pats down his jacket before he pulls out a tin and waves it at Donghyuck. “Do you smoke?”

“Sure.”

Donghyuck has no idea where any of his friends are — Jaemin had shown up at one point, walking from one back door to another, dragging Jaehyun along by his sleeve and talking animatedly, but apart from that most of the faces are strangers he only associates with a drunken haze. It's nice, though. He's a little less scared of being left by himself and more caught up in the whirlwind that Chenle seems to be, which is really enough entertainment and reassurance.

Chenle is really nice. He's so — alpha. Not just his demeanor but the way he smells — fresh and salty with a tang of spice — like a neon market on the seaside. Donghyuck is perfectly content just sitting here with him, swaying slightly as Chenle opens up the tin and takes out a rather fat joint (that sits alongside a few other things that _definitely_ aren’t legal) and pulls a lighter from his pocket. 

He lights it up and takes the first drag and then breathes it out slowly, smoke blowing into the air like a signal fire, smiling as he passes it to Donghyuck. “My friend brought this from Colorado. Should be the good shit."

Donghyuck hasn't smoked much — maybe once or twice a year while he was in Texas — so he doesn't have much frame of reference, but he takes it anyway and inhales, angling the cloud of smoke away from Chenle, who grins at him. 

“Tell me when it hits, eh?”

It takes a minute or two. Donghyuck is in the middle of talking about his Irish Lit class — which Chenle seems oddly interested in — when suddenly he feels it all wash over him. His sentence starts to run away from him, like it’s a balloon with a string covered in grease, like his brain is sliding out of sync with his mouth. It’s a great wave, soothing and bright, that comes with a sudden awareness of everything around him. It’s like someone has sharpened the focus — like everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful. He stares at one of the porch lights and it seems to sparkle.

“Oh shit,” Donghyuck says, and Chenle laughs.

“Yeah,” he says, drawing out the vowels. The joint is still burning in his hand and he grins. “Yeah, it’s good isn’t it?”

It is good. Donghyuck loses all train of thought — it’s not even like it’s derailed, it’s like someone has cast a spell and made the whole thing vanish: tracks, carriages and all. 

“Here,” Chenle says. He inhales deep and beckons to Donghyuck, and Donghyuck grins — leaning closer like he’s about to be privy to a secret. 

"Yeah?" he asks, but Chenle just cups his jaw and — oh. Donghyuck gets it.

His lips are softer than he'd expected — all pillowy and gentle and so good against Donghyuck's. Chenle exhales into his mouth and Donghyuck smiles into the kiss, letting it settle in his lungs before breathing out his nose, causing Chenle to giggle. It’s nice. It’s so fucking nice. Chenle is warm and the heater is warm and it’s not really even a kiss, to be honest — it’s just them holding their lips against each other, barely moving, just enjoying each other’s presence. 

“You wanna go?” Chenle asks him. He waves the joint at Donghyuck, who somehow — through the foggy haze — gets what he’s asking. He mirrors what Chenle had done — holds the smoke in his mouth and seals their lips together, breathing out with a sigh, resisting the urge to mimic Chenle’s unbecoming giggle as the smoke he exhales tickles his upper lip.

"You're pretty good at this," Chenle says.

"I'm a fast learner," Donghyuck replies. 

"It's a life skill. A good one to learn."

"God," Donghyuck says. He already has the urge to hug Chenle, but he suppresses it and instead slumps against the back of the seat. "I can't believe we just met and I'm already shotgunning weed with you."

"Isn't college great?" Chenle asks. He grins at Donghyuck, and maybe it's a trick of the light but his eyes seem to glimmer. They sit like that for a second or two or three or some amount of time that Donghyuck really doesn't understand, and then Chenle starts to laugh, a hiccuping giggle that's infectious. He's not sure what's funny, honestly — maybe he'd told a joke at some point or another — but Donghyuck can't help but join in. It's a social faux pas to laugh at your own joke, isn't it? But Donghyuck will do it anyway. Or maybe Chenle is funny.

Maybe it doesn't matter? Chenle's cool. He blows one last lungful of smoke into the air and stubs out the joint on a conveniently placed ashtray on the windowsill behind them, stretching out his dumb stupid long legs even more before folding up again.

"Your lap looks nice," Donghyuck says. He gives up on that whole holding back thing and lies down with his head on Chenle’s thigh, resisting the sudden urge to meow and instead lifting Chenle’s hand to thread through his hair. "Can I stay here?"

"Of course."

It doesn't matter how much physical affection Donghyuck gets, he thinks it won't ever be enough. And here it's just — it’s just really good. Like the world melts away, like he’s walked through cleansing rain after being coated in mud. He feels lighter, happier. Jisung comes out to talk to them and Donghyuck doesn’t even know what he’s saying, but he can’t stop smiling. Chenle keeps petting his hair and he feels like he could stay here forever — melting into the cushions, warmth flowing all over his body like sticky honey, until Jisung mentions something that seems oddly familiar.

Oh fuck. He was supposed to be finding Renjun. Hadn’t he promised him that? Fuck. He totally had.

He doesn't want to move but he really _should_ move. He'd made a promise. He's a man who keeps his promises. At least he thinks he is. It's a good thing to be and Donghyuck thinks he's a good person.

"Renjun," Donghyuck says, though he's not sure his tongue actually works.

"Huh?" Jisung's eyes go wide and he glances around. "Renjun?"

"I should find Renjun." He makes to roll off Chenle and then realises with a slight panic he's not actually sure how his limbs work. He's not even sure he has _bones_ anymore. Oh god. Have his bones turned to liquid? Is Chenle a wizard?

Wait, that wouldn't make sense. He'd just be a puddle if he was liquid. That's really stupid. Absolutely stupid.

"You're not going anywhere for a while," Chenle says with a laugh. "You don't smoke much do you?"

"Renjun's edibles," Donghyuck says. Chenle should get the rest. He should understand.

"Right." He pats Donghyuck's cheek. "We can find him when you're a bit more coherent, eh?"

Slowly, gently, in the haze floating around them, Donghyuck comes down. In the meantime he listens to Chenle and Jisung talking, but mostly he just closes his eyes and hums to himself, happy to relax in their company. Chenle's hand threads through his hair and his voice is soft and good and he'll get to see Renjun after this, which is even better.

When Donghyuck's legs are confirmed working and Chenle has Jisung make sure he's not completely baked out of his mind still, they head downstairs. Chenle must have insider information, because every time Donghyuck tries to grill someone on Renjun's location he just grabs his arm and keeps dragging him along, until they find him on the first floor. He's playing Mario Tennis with Daehwi, his chest shiny with sweat and his chain hanging out of his pocket as he does a pirouette and fully misses his next shot. Their opponents — Felix and Yuqi — are absolutely thrashing them, and considering how giggly Renjun is it's maybe not a surprise. There's definitely been a lot of alcohol consumed at least — all their cups are empty and there's something shiny spilled all over the table surface.

"Donghyuck!" Renjun shouts. He almost throws his controller in Donghyuck's face as he opens his arms for a hug — the only thing that stops it from going flying is the strap around his wrist.

"Hey," Donghyuck says, though it's muffled on account of Renjun's shirt being in his mouth. "Hey, I told you I'd find you."

"And find me you did. You look like you had fun."

"I did," Donghyuck says, drawing out the vowel. “Chenle's nice.” Renjun glances over his shoulder and gives Donghyuck a pat on the back.

"Yeah?" he asks, releasing him. "Are you high?"

"A little bit," Donghyuck makes a pinching gesture. "Just a little bit, you know?"

The bass thumps upstairs and a variety of loud arcade sounds play from the TV and Daehwi, Jisung and Yuqi are chatting about something that Donghyuck doesn't quite understand and the lights are low but it doesn't really matter because he's found Renjun now. That's what he wanted to do. It makes him happy like a little kid.

"Trust me," Chenle says. "He was way worse before."

"What did you do to him?"

Chenle flashes a smile. "Gave him some of the good shit."

"Donghyuck," Renjun laughs. Donghyuck is definitely a lot more sober than before — thinking doesn't feel like wading through tar, for once — but there's still something slow and hazy lingering in his mind. "I am not letting you onto my team. Yuqi is already kicking my fucking ass. Not until you sober up."

"Why don't you let Jisung play then?"

Renjun's eyes go wide, then a wicked grin breaks out across his face. "Good idea." He spins around, waving his controller to get Jisung's attention. "Jisung, hey! Come kick Yuqi's ass. You're good at video games, right?"

"He wanted to be a pro!" Chenle shouts.

"At Overwatch!" Jisung squeaks, though he takes the controller from Renjun anyway.

"Overwatch, Mario Tennis, same thing right?" Renjun gives him a pat on the back. "Go get 'em tiger."

Jisung looks bewildered for a second, but he's saved by Daehwi, who slides up to him and starts explaining the controls to a Jisung that's suddenly very attentive.

"Are you playing matchmaker?" Donghyuck asks. He glances at Renjun, who gives him a smug smile.

"Got no idea what you're talking about," he says, fluttering his eyelashes. He reaches over and picks a piece of glitter from Donghyuck's cheek then flops down on the couch, patting the spot beside him. "I'm simply allowing Jisung to have his turn."

"Oh, you're scheming. You're so scheming," Donghyuck says. He sits down next to Renjun and immediately finds himself being pulled closer by an arm around his shoulder.

"Come here you moron," Renjun mutters, yanking him over until he's practically splayed all over him. "Sit. I missed you."

Donghyuck rearranges himself so he's sitting thigh to thigh with Renjun, slumped against him slightly, Renjun's arm still around his shoulder. "You missed me?"

"Don't tell anyone," Renjun says. He ruffles Donghyuck's hair. "I actually quite like spending time with you."

"I think that cat's out of the bag."

"Nah. I’m lying, actually. I hang out with you out of obligation."

"What about sticking your dick in my mouth?"

"Shuts you up." Renjun pinches his bicep and laughs.

Jisung, apparently, is a quick learner — or maybe he's just the most sober one in the crowd. Either way, he and Daehwi thrash the Yuqi-Felix team, prompting Felix to demand Renjun's return.

"I'm done," Renjun says. He tightens his grip on Donghyuck. "I am not standing up again. You can't make me."

"He's too good," Felix says, waving his controller at Jisung while Daisy and Yoshi dance on the TV screen. He glances over at Donghyuck. “Hey little? Wanna get your ass whooped by a child prodigy?”

“He already whoops my ass enough. I’m good.”

“Why don’t we play something everyone can play?” Yuqi says. “We’ve got plenty of eight player games.”

“Chenle will beat the shit out of everyone at Smash. I veto that,” Jisung says. He glances around. “Actually, where _is_ Chenle?”

He’d been right beside them a second ago, but as Donghyuck looks around he realises he’s vanished into the throng of the crowd. 

“You lost him,” Renjun says. “Though I don’t think it’s going to be hard to find a guy dressed like he just came from a bondage party.”

It’s like a revolving door of faces. Jisung leaves to try find Chenle, only to be replaced by Jeno, Yeeun and Changbin. 

“C’mon,” Yuqi says. “Let’s get out Smash.”

There’s eight controllers but nine of them, and Donghyuck ends up being the odd man out — though it’s not so bad considering that Renjun basically pulls him into his lap as he plays. He melts against him, Renjun’s arms wrapped around his front, his head tucked under his chin. When Renjun talks his chest vibrates against his spine, and when he laughs Donghyuck shakes with it, like his happiness is transferring to him.

By the time Chenle and Jisung return the room is crowded and loud. Guests rotate in and out and Yuqi and Yeeun are on top of the leaderboard, the both of them regularly making the top four, much to Renjun's amusement. 

"Honestly all I know how to do is spam the same move on Metaknight," Renjun admits, as he hands the controller to a very enthusiastic Chenle. "But it's enough to knock a few people out most of the time."

"If it works it works, right?"

"Exactly."

Jisung was right. Chenle _is_ stupid good. Jeno is recording the next round on his phone and he gets to capture Chenle's completely stone cold face as he doesn't drop a single life — along with his shy grin as Jisung brags that he told them so. The next round they all gang up on him and the collateral is hilarious — there's hammers and items and projectiles flying left and right and Chenle is doing Matrix level dodges as he somehow _still_ manages to smash Yeeun off the edge of the map with a shout, before going down to Jisung and Daehwi's combined efforts.

"Well I'm glad I'm not playing now," Renjun says, as Jisung is taken down to one life. He has his hands wound around Donghyuck's front and he's playing with the edge of his shirt like a cat batting at a ball of string, nosing along his neckline. His breath is hot and wet and the words he says are murmured into Donghyuck's skin, almost lost over the thud of the bass. A couple crashes into the couch beside them, hands up each other's shirts. One of them is dressed like Macho Man Randy Savage, though her costume is falling apart — as the other girl pulls her into her lap one of the pieces of fringe falls off her arm. "And we're hitting that part of the night, too," he adds.

"The part where everyone's a little bit horny and desperate?"

"Mmm," Renjun says. He slides his hands down, settling against the inside of Donghyuck's thigh, knuckles brushing against his crotch. "What do you say?"

It kicks off something in Donghyuck's stomach, scatterings of hot coal in the firepit, warmth blooming inside of him. He leans into Renjun's mouth, tilting his head to expose more of his neck, and hums. "Like you didn't know how this night would end."

Renjun chuckles. "I know. But it's nice to pretend." He sucks a spot below Donghyuck's ear, sending a full body shiver through him. In front of them Jeno glances back, sees the two of them and widens his eyes — making a face at Donghyuck as if to ask ' _really?_ '. Donghyuck shrugs.

"Is this where we steal away to some poor brother's room and fuck on his bed?"

"Oh come on," Renjun murmurs. His fingers trace patterns on the inside of Donghyuck's thigh. "Do you think I'm that classless?"

"Absolutely. You're wearing a gold chain."

"And you're wearing _pleather_ . If we're fucking on any bed we're fucking in _Kun's_ bed."

"Oh, maybe you are high class," Donghyuck says with a laugh. "And daring."

"Or stupid."

They peel off the couch, pushing through the drunken bodies hanging in circles on the edge of the room and stepping over a guy in a neon fitness instructor suit passed out at the bottom of the staircase. Renjun's hand is hot and heavy on the small of Donghyuck's back and he can't resist — he stops halfway up the stairs, pushes him up against the bannister and kisses him. The neon lights glitter around them and there's a disco ball on the floor and in the next room someone is whooping and shouting — someone is cheering. The air is hot and there's bodies everywhere and Renjun clutches his back, pulling him against him, slotting their hips together and sending a thick pulse of arousal through Donghyuck's gut.

"You are so fucking hot," Renjun says. He trails his lips across Donghyuck's jaw. "You stupid fucking moron of an alpha. God. You're obnoxious."

"Tell me how you really feel," Donghyuck says.

"The railing is digging into my back," Renjun says, wrapping his hand around the back of Donghyuck's head and pulling him down to whisper in his ear. "And I can't wait to fuck your mouth."

Renjun’s eyes are dark and — like a dog on a leash — Donghyuck follows him.

  
  


*

  
  


"Why the fuck didn't we start fucking before?" Renjun asks, slumped against the wall, sheets still fisted in his hands.

Donghyuck licks the last few drops of cum from his cock before he tucks him back into his pants. "You tell me," he says.

Truth be told, Donghyuck had never really been attracted to betas, and flat out wasn't attracted to omegas at all. Renjun was a fucking anomaly, created to drive him mad — but he wasn't able to tell him that.

"Post nut clarity tells me it was my stupid choice to not let you know that I was an omega until it was almost too late."

"Okay," Donghyuck says, climbing to his feet and flopping down next to Renjun. Renjun pats his lap and Donghyuck gets the picture, resting his head in his lap and letting Renjun pet him like an oversized cat. "Why didn't you tell me then?"

Renjun waves his hand. "Why does anyone have to tell anyone? You're always so quick to assert you're an alpha, like it fucking matters. It's not like I hid it from you. I always wear my NOA hoodie and you never took any notice."

Donghyuck does recall seeing the hoodie a lot — though it's only because he'd realised what it was. "You just said you didn't tell me, though."

"Yeah. Different from actively hiding it from you."

"What about when you cut Yuqi off at the party?"

Renjun purses his lips. "I guess I just wanted to pretend. Just for a bit. People treat me differently, you know?"

There's a solemnity in the air all of a sudden — Renjun's voice low and serious. He knows, he thinks. Maybe it's matched in a different direction — a vague frustration at the respect he suddenly commands when people find out he's an alpha, like it changes anything about him. He can imagine it runs similarly for Renjun. "Yeah, I can guess," Donghyuck says.

Renjun just sighs. The bass thumps through the wall and someone is screaming with laughter and the sheets of Kun’s bed are soft beneath his fingers and he can still taste Renjun on his lips, can still feel him in the back of his brain, some kind of strange afterimage that lingers when he closes his eyes.

"It's stupid, isn't it?"

"Not at all."

"I'm proud of who I am, but I still want to hide it. Does that mean I'm really proud?"

"You can still be proud," Donghyuck says. "Isn't it like you said? That thing about society. Implicit bias? It’s not your thoughts — it’s what you’ve been told."

He hopes he's remembering right. After sticking his foot in his mouth about omega things one too many times he's made a conscious effort to actually think before he fucking speaks. If not for Renjun's sake, but for everyone's. A few days ago he'd made an off hand comment to Jisung and had had to watch the pure horror that was seeing Jisung's face fall in a microsecond. It was like kicking a puppy — but worse.

"Right," Renjun says. "It's hard to undo so many years of shame. You _are_ actually listening to me."

Donghyuck gives him a smile. "Of course I am. We'll work at it, right?"

Renjun squeezes his hand and leans down to give him a kiss. He's still kind of drunk and tastes a bit like smoke and Donghyuck is definitely still a bit high from shotgunning weed with Chenle but maybe that's why it's so nice. Maybe it's the drugs taking the edge off, or it's the post orgasmic glow, or it's Renjun's scent wafting around him, or something else Donghyuck can't properly explain. It lies on his limbs and the music stuffs his head with cotton wool and Renjun is soft and warm and his lips move of their own accord — nothing rushed, nothing needed. Just comfort. Just familiarity. Someone he trusts — someone he knows.

  
  


*

  
  


Donghyuck knows there's an abject danger in this whole thing. Sleeping with his friend. His close friend. He doesn't know who he's closer to at this point — Renjun or Jisung, but he also thinks it's maybe pointless to categorise it. Either way, he's close with Renjun and he’s close with Jisung, but he's sleeping with Renjun and he lives with him which means if this whole thing goes up in flames shit will go bad very very quickly and he won't have anywhere else to retreat.

It's also bad because Donghyuck is a pretty good student despite all the cramming — but now any moment that would have previously consisted of him putting in some study for his Irish Folk Literature class now involves him walking the twenty or so steps to Renjun's room and having his cock ridden until his brains blow out of his ears.

He remembers a guy he'd fucked back in Texas — one of those closet case Alphas who swore they only liked getting their ass knotted because it felt good, and no they weren't a knotsleeve like those other people. The casual type. The type that Donghyuck had fucked a lot, because he was soft for an alpha and if they closed their eyes maybe they could pretend he was a beta, and that was so much less damaging than being dominated by another alpha, wasn’t it? Well, up until the part where they begged for him to knot them, anyway.

They'd fucked a few times and he'd taken Donghyuck's cock so fucking well Donghyuck wasn't sure how he'd ever reconcile it once the guy no doubt panicked and blocked his number.

But it didn’t matter. Bodies were a dime a dozen and Donghyuck had moved on, and maybe it was nice to find someone who’d looked him in the eye while he’d fucked them instead of burying their head in the pillow. He’d found a few of those. He’d dated for a bit after that guy, actually — a sweet beta who’d fucked Donghyuck pretty god damn well.

Renjun is better than that guy, anyway. He's better than nearly everyone he's ever slept with, to be honest, and he's literally right here. The power to have a booty call already on his doorstep at 3 am is one no-one should ever be granted, because it means Donghyuck gets literally nothing done.

He and Renjun fuck almost every single day. Once. Twice. Thrice on a lazy Saturday. If it's not Renjun riding his cock into oblivion it's Donghyuck sucking Renjun's cock, or Donghyuck eating Renjun's ass, or Donghyuck fingering him until there's slick trickling down his wrist and Renjun is a red faced mess. He's fucking obsessed with Renjun, and when it's Thanksgiving and Jaemin and Jeno are at a frat party that both of them had chosen to skip Renjun sucks his cock so fucking well he's pretty sure he actually steals a part of his soul.

It's insane. They're so in tune — so fucking good for each other that Donghyuck wonders how he'll ever go back to anything else.

There's the dilemma with his professors. Finals are rapidly approaching and he doesn't think the excuse of 'I was pounding my fuckbuddy's ass' is enough to get him out of his essay submissions. Time at home becomes time on the campus. He does try to study. He reads his assigned novels in the library. He spends too much time at Gong Cha, bothering Jaemin while he's trying to work his shift and instead only succeeding in making him laugh and spill some poor soul's drink while he's trying to stick it in the lid machine.

Speaking of Gong Cha, he really does drink too much boba. He's drank his way through half the menu by the time December comes around, and he's eyeing the other half with curiosity. The dropping temperature means Renjun's drink choice swaps to whatever he can have hot, and he brings him so many milk foam topped variants of tea he's sure his blood must be partially made up of it at this point.

Today he's managed to navigate the music building (somehow — no matter how many times he goes searching for Renjun it's still a true minotaurs maze to try find the studios in the endless musty corridors of building 231-A). He drops a cup of Earl Grey tea on Renjun's desk and ruffles his hair the best he can past his ridiculously bulky headphones, earning a grunt of annoyance from him and a sly smile.

He finishes up whatever the hell he's doing (Donghyuck's given up trying to understand it — his screen just looks like a bunch of blocks of colour to him, but apparently it's music) and turns to face Donghyuck, setting his headphones down on the stand and cracking his neck as he reaches for his drink.

"Though you weren't coming," Renjun says, stabbing his straw through the lid and taking a long slurp.

"I hit the after school rush. Jaemin looked like he was contemplating sticking his head in the sealing machine."

"Doesn't he know half the reason they get so many customers is all the girls who come in to see his smile?"

"Oh, he knows," Donghyuck says. Jaemin must know. It's crazy. As soon as the clock hits quarter past three the entire store floods with high schoolers, alphas, omegas and betas alike who lean on the counter and blush every time Jaemin calls up an order with his dazzling smile plastered on. "They should give him a raise. He's good advertising."

Renjun snorts. "Don't give him the ego boost."

"Like he doesn't already know how hot he is."

"True." Renjun flicks at a piece of paper stuck to the desk. "How're you going?"

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows, partway through sucking up a mouthful of his drink. He swallows it quickly, trying to hide his surprise at the sudden left turn in conversation. "I'm fine?"

He is. He's fine. A little stressed with the impending finals and his three essays due and the fact he spends half his time either playing Overwatch with Jisung or fucking Renjun's ass when he really should be studying, but really it's fine. Really — it is.

"Are you?"

"Are you?" Donghyuck shoots back. The corner of Renjun's mouth twitches up and he raises his eyebrows again — whatever — before glancing back at the monitor and swapping two of the tracks on his screen.

"Yeah," Renjun says. "I'm coping. Just—" he waves his hand at the screen in a vague gesture of frustration. "Whatever. It'll get itself done. I wanted to finish this before study break but I don't even know if I can now. I still need Dejun to come in and help with the vocals but he's been so caught up in the production I'm not going to force him." Renjun groans. "I mean, worst of the worst I'll sing on it but his voice is just so fucking nice."

Donghyuck twirls his straw in his hand and hums. He’s been complaining about Dejun a lot recently. He’s pretty sure Renjun’s just taken him as a scapegoat, but Donghyuck doesn’t want to push it further. "How much longer do you have booked here?"

"Like—" he glances at his phone "—ten minutes. I should probably just pack up now, I suppose."

"Guess I'm your ride?"

"Unless you're staying to hang out with Jisung, yeah? I'd appreciate it."

Donghyuck smiles. "You and I both know what Jisung's doing tonight."

"Hanging out with Daehwi,” Renjun says with a nod and a grin. “It's a cute crush he's got. It's good, too. Daehwi's been running the group by himself basically all year, so it must be a relief for him to have a hand helping him out. I told him he could move the meeting to a day I’m not busy, but he seemed so determined to do it by himself."

"Do you think Jisung has a chance?"

Renjun laughs, lifting up the keyboard and sweeping his hand across the desk to check for any dropped pieces of paper. "Oh yes. Daehwi thinks he's adorable. It just depends if he has the guts to ask him on a date."

"Jisung is too shy to order dinner half the time."

"Exactly," Renjun says. He stands up and glances around, picking up his cup again and taking a drink. "It's cute though, isn't it? Opposites attract."

"It is cute. Jisung never shuts up about him."

Almost every single day — Daehwi did this, Daehwi did that. Donghyuck, Daehwi is so funny. Daehwi talked about his class today. Me and Daehwi are going to help out the Spring semester intake students.

Jisung has it bad. He's lucky Donghyuck loves him with all his heart, because otherwise he'd be close to insufferable, but instead he teeters on endearing. Donghyuck just likes seeing him happy — the way his eyes light up when he talks about him, the way he gestures wildly with his hands. All his lovesick sighs and smiles and the way he gazes into the distance if he thinks about him for too long. He's pretty happy for him. Renjun's judgement of Daehwi is that he's probably the most put together of all of them (even if he's a bit of a party boy), and if Renjun approves then Donghyuck does too.

They let the next person in to use the studio — a girl who looks like she's running on six shots of espresso and nothing else — and head back out to the carpark, into the weak winter sunlight. Donghyuck unlocks the truck and Renjun unceremoniously throws all the things he'd left on the passenger's side into the back seat, launching a couple of Donghyuck's essays into the air and then throwing his work uniform on the floor.

"I just got that drycleaned," Donghyuck says. "C'mon."

"Sorry," Renjun says. He picks it up and folds it sloppily in his lap, brushing off the imaginary pieces of dirt. "I'll let you pick the music as an apology."

"Don't say that or I'll make you listen to Party Rock Anthem again."

Renjun sighs and grabs the AUX as they pull out of the carpark. "You know I'm starting to believe you like my music."

"Don't know where you'd ever get that opinion from," Donghyuck says, but he's grinning. Renjun's music taste isn't as bad as he makes it out to be — though he moans and complains he's coming around to a lot of it. It's eclectic, but it's oddly Renjun. Oddly comforting.

They pull out onto the main road, Donghyuck drumming his fingers against the steering wheel to the strum of the guitar. "Hey," he says. "What're you doing for winter break?"

Renjun makes a noise — low, slightly uncomfortable. "Just staying at home. I'll probably go to Yuqi's on Christmas or something. Her mom might physically drag me over if I don't."

"Ah," Donghyuck says. There's an awkwardness in it. He remembers what Renjun had said about his mother — and he's curious, but he also doesn't want to prod. "Well. I'll probably be back early, so I won't leave you lonely for too long."

“You say that like it’s a positive.”

“C’mon. I’m charming. You’ll miss me.” He glances over to see Renjun roll his eyes and give him the most sarcastic smile of his life. “Don’t complain when you’re crying when I leave, then.”

“You’re dreaming,” Renjun says. He laughs. “Absolutely fucking dreaming.”

  
  


*

  
  


Finals hit Donghyuck like a ton of bricks, crashing down on his head and leaving his ears ringing. He’s not sure how he manages to survive — only that it comes with the temporary price of his sanity and his sleep schedule. He writes 3 essays in as many days and almost falls asleep in his last exam — but he fucking makes it. He makes it and basically sleeps for a full day afterwards, waking up disoriented and feeling like he’d slept through the apocalypse. It’s dark outside, streetlights pooling on the asphalt, and when he stumbles downstairs he finds Jeno and Chenle sitting at the kitchen table together. 

“What year is it?” Donghyuck says, making a beeline for the fridge and pouring the last of the orange juice into his mouth straight from the carton.

“Congratulations on finishing finals,” Chenle says with a snort. “It’s still 2021.” He looks a lot different outside of the party lighting. His hair is a typical bowl cut, and he’s dyed it back black. That, combined with his circle rimmed glasses and designer brand jacket (Donghyuck’s pretty sure he’d seen a similar colourway going for at least 1k on Grailed), means he looks like every other west coast FOB.

“And here I was hoping I’d time travelled to graduation.”

“And passed all your classes in your sleep?”

“Exactly.” Donghyuck groans. The microwave reads seven pm and there’s a sticky note on the toaster from Jaemin that reads the same thing he’d sent to the group chat — ‘DONT FUCKING FORGET THE SEMIFORMAL’.

“Wishful thinking at it’s finest,” Jeno says.

Donghyuck sticks his head back in the fridge and stares at the poor amount of food left in it. They’ll all be leaving in a few days — it serves to reason that they haven’t gone shopping. Still, Donghyuck curses himself. They’re not only out of easy to make food — they’re out of ingredients too. “What’re you doing here?” he asks, glancing over at Chenle as he heads to the cupboards and prays for instant ramen.

“Eh? Oh. I needed Jeno’s help with something. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Donghyuck’s pretty sure he isn’t looking at Chenle like anything — more that his brain is lagging and he can’t piece together why _Jisung’s_ friend is suddenly at his house hanging out with Jeno.

“Like you think I’m hiding something.”

“Unless you’re hiding food, I actually don’t care.”

Chenle laughs. “Ate before I got here. Sorry.”

Donghyuck waves a hand, “It’s fine.” He picks up a packet of ramen that’s covered in dust, figures it’s probably kept well enough, puts the kettle on and grabs a pot out of the draw. “What _are_ you two up to, then? You teaching him how to wrestle?”

“I wish,” Chenle says with a wistful sigh. He throws a wink to Jeno, who stares into the distance like he’s being filmed on a hidden camera, before returning to his default cheerful smile. 

“He’s helping me with some extra-curriculars. I wanted to do some volunteer stuff when I got back,” Jeno explains. “We were talking at the 80’s party — Chenle gets a lot of help from the ATAO, and I’d love to help them out.” 

“Eh?” Donghyuck says. He feels a little bit lost. He has no idea what word salad Jeno has just spat at him, or even that he and Chenle had been talking at the party — though he supposes he does have a large gap in awareness of goings on when he and Renjun had gone and made a mess of Kun’s bed. 

Jeno looks to Chenle, who purses his lips then widens his eyes. “Association for Transgender Alpha Omegas’,” he says. 

The kettle lets out a loud gurgle. “Oh. That’s cool,” Donghyuck says. He looks at Chenle, who regards him coolly. His scent is subtle, but it’s starting to ramp up — and Donghyuck realises very quickly he’s on edge. “No, it’s fine. Really.” He gives Chenle a grin. “It’s cool they support y’all like that.”

Chenle relaxes, the line of his shoulders visibly going slack. “Yeah. It’s awesome. We’ve got our own little meeting room. Not as cool as the Omega Space, but you know. There’s also like. Sixteen of us max so we don’t really need a cool clubroom. I’d love a damn photocopier though. The ones in the general library are always broken.”

“Or out of ink,” Donghyuck says with a roll of his eyes. Even he’s started going to Omega Space — if only because it was on the way to his American History lecture — just to print out his stuff. “What’s the point of paying tuition if the printers are always out of order?”

“That’s what I’m saying.” Chenle laughs. “Doesn’t matter what college you go to, the terrible infrastructure is the same.”

There’s a loud bang from the hallway, drawing all of their attention.

“Eh?” Jeno says, glancing at them, then back towards the hallway. There’s a muffled curse and — oh.

“Jaemin,” Donghyuck says. 

“Guess he’s awake from his post exam nap too,” Jeno says. “I was actually getting worried for a bit there. Thought he might have died.”

“I’m alive!” Jaemin shouts — full on Doctor Frankenstein style. There’s another bang — he must be slapping his hands against the walls. “I’m free and I’m alive! Is it time for the semi yet?”

“You didn’t sleep that long,” Jeno yells. Jaemin stumbles through the door and Donghyuck reappends his Doctor Frankenstein comparison to Frankenstein’s _monster_ , because holy hell does Jaemin look dead. His hair is almost entirely vertical and there’s black bags under his hooded eyes and his skin is red and splotchy — and as Donghyuck watches he shuffles to the cupboards like a zombie, pulls out the last of their Lucky Charms and goes about pouring it into an empty tupperware container someone had left out for drying.

“I feel like I slept into my next life. And I feel like it wasn’t enough.”

“May I suggest less Monster?” Donghyuck says. Jaemin’s gaze drags over to him and he lets out a snort, spoon firmly grasped between his lips.

“You may. And the jury will ignore you.”

“Um,” Chenle says. He clasps his hands together, lips forming a thin line. “If that’s it, I’ll head back to the dorm?”

“I’ll give you a ride,” Jeno says, grabbing his keys off the bench. Chenle flashes him a brilliant smile and the two of them exit, leaving Donghyuck alone with Jaemin’s zombie form staring into middle space while he munches on cereal. 

“So,” Jaemin says. He twirls his spoon in his cereal. “You and Renjun, huh.”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says. The kettle finishes boiling and he goes to prepare his ramen while he waits for Jaemin to finish his statement.

“He’s nice, right?”

“You’ve lived with him longer than I have.”

“True.” 

Donghyuck tears open the packet and dumps the noodle cake into the pot, checking to make sure the hob catches. It takes a few jiggles, and in the background he can hear the crunch of Jaemin’s chewing. “Any end to that?”

“Mmmm,” Jaemin says. “Just look out for him, will you? Take care.”

Donghyuck turns around. Jaemin is looking straight at him — giving him a steely gaze that would be almost intimidating if he didn’t know it was coming from a good place in his heart. 

“Of course,” Donghyuck says. He raises an eyebrow and Jaemin nods. 

“Don’t let him fool you. He can take care of himself, but his heart’s too damn soft.”

“What are you, his dad?”

“Not at all. Just someone who loves him. Just someone who sees he likes you. Be careful Donghyuck, that’s all I’m saying.” Jaemin locks eyes with him, rainbow coloured cereal dust on his lips, spoon held lazily in his hand, and gives him a small smile and a nod of the head. Donghyuck bites his lip and, when Jaemin doesn’t say anything more, goes back to cooking his ramen, a strange taste in his mouth.

  
  


*

  
  


The semiformal is three days after his last exam. Donghyuck picks Jisung, Mark and Chenle up from the mixed hall — where they’d been hanging out in Chenle’s dorm. His roommate has already gone back home and — according to Jisung when he’d texted Donghyuck — ‘his room is fucking _huge_ ’. The three of them come bundling out of the front door — Chenle and Mark chatting while Jisung gives Donghyuck a shy wave. They’re all dressed similarly — Chenle is wearing a well tailored jacket that shows off both his stupidly narrow waistline and broad shoulders, a black bow tie around his neck, where Mark has gone for a yellow jacket. Jisung’s pants are slightly too short — but it’s more endearing than anything, and he doubts Chenle is going to notice, or even care. He’s handsome enough — really handsome, really. They all look good

The ride to the frat house is rowdy and loud — Chenle and Mark apparently get on better than any of them could have guessed (Mark is very proudly talking about his post on subtle asian traits that had blown up) and it creates an absolute racket. Up front Jisung fills Donghyuck in on his finals. He’s pretty sure he aced his Chinese final and — after seeing how much he’d stressed over it — Donghyuck is so proud of him that he almost wants to stop the car and hug him right there and then.

Yuqi greets them when they get to the house, opening the door and appraising them all as she lets them in. She looks _stunning_ — her dress is deep purple and she’s wearing matching earrings and a necklace that follows her plunging neckline, her hair done up and dusted with glitter. She hugs them each and tells them Renjun is with Jaemin and Jeno — and if they want drinks they can get them themselves. 

They do both. Grabbing drinks from the kitchen (which is in a much better state compared to when Donghyuck had last seen it), they head to the upstairs reading room, where half the chapter and their dates seem to be gathered. Yeeun and Felix are chatting in one corner, both of them wearing navy blue, while Renjun, Jaemin and Jeno are caught up in some kind of drinking game. Jaemin waves them over and Donghyuck is forced to steal a seat from another table to fit — though once he does he's afforded the prime spot of being sandwiched between Renjun and Jungwoo. 

"You scrub up pretty well, yeehaw," Renjun says. His hair is styled up to bare part of his forehead and he's wearing black on black, forgoing a tie for a bolo. Instead of his normal piercings he's wearing simple silver studs and his boots have a high heel. He's wearing contacts tonight, too — though Donghyuck wonders how long that will last because Renjun _hates_ contacts.

"And you're not so bad yourself," Donghyuck replies. Renjun flashes him a grin.

"Can't take the credit. Yuqi did my hair. She really didn't want her date to look like a nerd, apparently."

"But you are a nerd."

"That's what I told her." 

It's their turn and Renjun throws his card down without much fanfare, though Donghyuck has a lot less luck — he's supposed to chug, and chug he does. The drink is a lot smoother than expected, slightly fruity, though the bitter alcoholic taste isn't entirely drowned out.

"First of the night," Donghyuck says, holding up his cup to a set of cheers.

He's pleasantly buzzed by the time they get on the bus. Mark sits next to him and Yuqi and Renjun sit in front of them — Renjun spends half the ride turned around chatting to Mark, prompting Yuqi to ask Donghyuck what he's doing for the holidays.

"Just going back to Texas." 

"Is that good?" 

Donghyuck nods. "I miss my family. Even my bratty siblings. It'll be nice to spend time with them again." 

"Then after a week you'll remember why you left."

"Oh, I don't doubt it." 

She gives him a smile, then glances over to where Mark is clearly trying to explain something to Renjun. "Thanks for looking after him, by the way. He really adores you." 

"You can just say he tolerates me," Donghyuck laughs. 

"No," she lowers her voice. "I mean it. I appreciate what you do for him, Donghyuck. You make him happy." 

Donghyuck goes to answer but he's interrupted by Mark, who asks him to settle a very important debate between the two of them. As he's pulled into the conversation he looks back to Yuqi, who smiles at him — something warm, something welcoming. 

_I'm glad you're here._

  
  


*

  
  


Jeno leaves for Australia the morning after the semi formal — hungover and bleary eyed, but still in good spirits. He hugs them all and promises to bring back vegemite for Jaemin, who tells him to fuck off, though the hug he gives Jeno is fierce and lingers a bit longer than the rest of theirs. Jaemin himself leaves around eleven, and then it’s just Renjun and Donghyuck in the house. Donghyuck, who’d had the foresight to plan his trip home with a day’s break between. 

It’s a strange feeling, knowing they’re the only two people in the house. Everything is still and quiet and there’s something lingering in his gut — though he figures it could just be the remnants of all the alcohol he’d consumed. The sunshine spills in through the windows and as he and Renjun sit at the kitchen table together, eating their takeout (Donghyuck had figured there was no point cooking when he was leaving tomorrow) he feels a longing stretching between them — some invisible thread, pulled tight. 

“I’ll miss you,” Renjun says. He’s not looking at Donghyuck — he’s looking at his food, tearing off part of his naan to dip it in his curry.

“Yeah?” Donghyuck says. Renjun scoffs, though it’s fond.

“Unfortunately.”

He thinks to joke — to tease him, but it doesn’t seem the time. “Yeah. I’ll miss you too.”

Renjun’s face scrunches up. “That was way too sentimental,” he says, looking up at Donghyuck and taking a bite of his naan. “Let’s never do that again.”

“You started it!”

“And now I’m finishing it, too.” Renjun laughs again, like it’s a tease, but his eyes are sparkling. The light is warm and soft and it catches in one of the glasses left drying on the bench, sending a rainbow across his neck, painting the rest of him in gold. He looks wonderful. Like a work of art — and Donghyuck thinks he’s right to miss him. 

“I’ll be back soon, though.”

“Guess I’ll have to make do with my hand then.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck laughs. “That’s what this is about?”

“God knows I’m not going to miss your stellar personality.”

“You know you will baby,” Donghyuck says with a wink. He spoons more of his curry into his mouth, fanning himself as the spice kicks along his tongue. Renjun just laughs — something small. Something sincere. There’s a fondness in his eyes, and it feels warm and gooey in Donghyuck’s gut. 

“Tonight,” Renjun says. It’s a little hesitant, and Donghyuck raises his eyebrows. “Tonight. Before you go. Can I fuck you, instead?”

His eyebrows almost fly into his hairline, and Donghyuck stutters a little — though he recovers. He can’t lie and say he hasn’t thought of the idea before, but it’s certainly unexpected to hear it now. 

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says. He swallows, something stirring within him, something that roars for Renjun. “Yeah. Of course.”

Renjun smiles. Donghyuck can’t place the feeling it gives him, but it’s something he never wants to lose. 

  
  


*

  
  


Renjun kisses him slowly, like he’s trying to savour this. Like he’s trying to commit him to memory — like Donghyuck won’t be back in a couple of weeks. It’s terrifying but sweet — like this is something holy to Renjun. His lips are warm and soft and his body burns against Donghyuck’s, metabolism always running a bit too hot. Too hot for Donghyuck — perfect for Renjun. Too much energy. Too much heat. 

They’re in Donghyuck’s bed and the lights are on and it’s dark outside — curtains drawn, music turned down low. There’s nothing to hide, but even so Donghyuck feels so vulnerable — he feels like Renjun is looking straight through him. 

“It’s okay,” he’d said as he’d worked him open — as he’d fucked him on his fingers, pressing kisses to every part of Donghyuck he could reach. Kisses all over his thighs, his stomach. Withdrawing his fingers, kisses on Donghyuck’s face. 

When he’d pushed into him he’d bowed over him — pressed their faces close and looked into his eyes, and Donghyuck felt like he’d been flayed. Turned inside out, heart on display, ribs pried open. He feels like there’s blood on his hands, and it’s terrifying — it’s terrifying to have someone who knows him like this. To be known, to be so open. Renjun’s hands cup his cheeks and Donghyuck pulls him down — Donghyuck pushes against him. He kisses him, he asks for more. 

There’s a part of him that says he shouldn’t be like this. Renjun’s scent is thick and heavy on his tongue and he tastes so much like an omega it makes him dizzy — it makes him think he should be afraid. He’s vulnerable — but does it really matter? 

"You're beautiful," Donghyuck says, and it's like walking into the fire. It's like stepping into the blaze, and Donghyuck would be a liar if he said he wasn't afraid. 

Renjun does that. He terrifies him, in all the little ways he never thought possible — in all the ways that make him feel so small. He's like a force of nature trapped into the confines of a human body. Unstoppable — inevitable. 

Donghyuck still doesn't understand. He doesn't understand a lot of things about Renjun — all the contradictions that make up his very bones. There’s something that burns within him and he desperately longs to clutch it — he prays it won’t burn him. 

Somehow, he knows it won’t.

Renjun smiles at him, then. 

"Show me," he says. 

Donghyuck doesn't know what he's supposed to show him. The radiance that comes from every pore of Renjun's body? The way he looks like pure starfire, the sun and the moon had collided to birth his light? How Renjun shows him something he doesn't even fully understand — something so abstract he thinks he'd spend a hundred years trying to explain. Scouring poetry and novels and all the songs in languages long dead just to find the words to describe him.

Donghyuck circles his fingers around Renjun's wrist and presses a kiss to the inside. He grazes his teeth over where his scent glands sit and Renjun shudders, fingers curling.

It's just lust. It's just another contradiction — another stitch in the frame that holds Renjun together. Another thing that keeps the shine in the marrow of his bones from spilling out like a cracked glowstick. 

It's just lust. That's all there is to it. 

It's just lust, naked as they are. The need to feel another body against his — to be reminded he is alive. This fiery beautiful boy — this fighter, this survivor. 

Renjun. 

It's just Renjun. 

There's never been anyone like Renjun. 

Donghyuck wonders with a sickening clarity if there ever will be again.

Renjun bows over him and kisses him and Donghyuck holds him. He fists his hands in his hair and rolls their bodies together and Renjun gasps. Elbows digging into his sweat slick skin, his hips against Donghyuck's. Renjun’s inside him and Donghyuck is vulnerable, he’s laid open and bare.

The lights are on. He can't hide. He can't hide the fire in his eyes, can't hide the way he touches Donghyuck. Neither of them can — they're both so exposed. They're naked and raw with each other, and Donghyuck wants more. He wants all of Renjun — wants to have him like this forever and ever. He kisses him and kisses him and Renjun's hips work against him — his fingers dig into his skin. His mouth is against his neck and Donghyuck can taste him — patchouli, vanilla, deep rich chocolate melting over his tongue.

Donghyuck runs his hands down Renjun’s back, digging his fingers into the jut of his spine and causing him to arch into him. His teeth dig into his skin and Donghyuck groans, losing himself in him. It’s like a tide washing over him, it’s like the entire ocean — big, blue, utterly impossible. Donghyuck sinks into him and Renjun follows, throwing himself into the deep — drowning in it. His body rolls in time with Donghyuck's and his hips crash against him, every point of contact setting him alight.

He shuts his eyes. He loses himself. He lets everything go, and it all melts over him in a wave of white light that smothers him.

  
  


*

  
  


The morning light is weak, the sky overcast and grey. Donghyuck loads up his truck with his bag and Renjun stands on the doorstep, dressing gown cinched around his waist, a smile on his face. 

“Drive safe,” he says. “Don’t play music I’d hate.”

“I’m _only_ playing music you hate. To celebrate.”

Renjun rolls his eyes. “I’ll make sure to call you and remind you how shit it is. Just in case you miss me.”

“Why don’t you send me a voice recording so I can play it when I need it.”

“You keep saying that and I’ll actually do it.”

Donghyuck laughs. It’s rich and warm and he hugs Renjun, squeezing him tight, breathing him in one last time. 

“See ya, dude.”

“See you soon,” Renjun says. “Bring me back something novelty sized.”

“Isn’t everything novelty sized for you? You know, cause you’re so short?”

“Fuck off.”

The street is quiet and empty and there’s no wind and his footsteps echo strangely as he walks back down the path, as he pulls open the driver’s door and gives Renjun one last wave. He’s still smiling, though he flips Donghyuck off as he pulls shut the door, and Donghyuck winds down the window and does the same to him.

“Drive safe!” Renjun shouts.

“I will!”

Donghyuck pulls away from the kerb — out onto the empty road, back towards home.

  
  


*

  
  


Donghyuck is in El Paso before he notices Renjun’s parting gift. When he gets to the hotel the first thing he does is go to the shower — intent on washing off the film of sweat that had somehow worked its way under his clothes. He’s stripping off when he catches it in the mirror — a splotch of discolouration against his skin. Something sitting where his neck meets his collarbone, surrounded by darkening hickies.

He's no stranger to the shape of Renjun's mouth. He’s had his thighs peppered with bruises more than once. Endured bites and nips and harsh kisses to every inch of his body. But on his shoulder is something bruising and purple — something Donghyuck is unfamiliar with. He digs his fingers into it, like he's trying to verify it's real and not some drunken tattoo mistake.

Oh, it’s real. It’s very real. Fringed with crimson and ugly shades of yellow — an etching of Renjun’s teeth drawn with the ink of popped blood vessels. It’s harsh and solid, pinpointed by the sharp dot of where his canines had broken the skin.

It’s a claiming bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please dont kill me
> 
> thank you again to claire for being the best beta ever.


	5. Interlude: Texas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donghyuck returns home and contemplates what Renjun's bite means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. Sorry for the colossal break between chapters. Fest obligations and many other things got in the way but I am BACK and hopefully on a regular schedule! Chapters from hereon out will be shorter (6k-10k) to allow me to update far more frequently. I've never done a chaptered fic like this before so it's a bit of a learning curve but rest assured -- I know where I'm going! There is an end to this! Enjoy this brief interlude <3

Donghyuck picks at a particularly stubborn thread on the bed sheets, staring at the ghosts of passing car headlights breaking through the curtains. 

The claiming bite itches. He can't stop scratching it and now the skin is almost bleeding, tiny white furrows dotted with blood brought to the surface by his sharp nails. His head is pounding and his bones ache and he feels like he's been turned inside out — a dull pulse like a glowing bass beat thudding in his veins, emanating from his shoulder. 

He knows he should sleep. He doesn't know what he should do in the grand scheme of things, but he knows he needs to drive home tomorrow and that the motel wants him out by ten. He knows he'll need to leave earlier if he wants to get home before the sun sets. 

He also knows he's incredibly stupid, and that's why he gets up and pulls on his boots and jacket and ducks past a woman who no doubt chain smokes as a hobby when he exits the lobby. That's why he lets the dry December air slap a chill across his face. 

He jiggles his keys as he waits for the crosswalk, suppressing the urge to reach under his collar and press his fingers against the blooming bruise. There's a diner a block over, neon sign glowing, shadows of bodies in its windows, and he stands outside for a second, watching as a waiter dressed in a rose red dress delivers a pair of milkshakes to a couple. One strawberry. One chocolate. 

He doesn't need to smell it for the shape of Renjun's body to swim back to him. His taste still lingers on his tongue, and just the thought of chocolate is enough for the memory to become clearer. His teeth against his neck. The burn of his skin. All his kisses. 

Everything else. 

Donghyuck stuffs his hands into his pockets and keeps walking. 

He ends up getting tamales, sitting in a brightly lit restaurant and eating at a table by himself. The chairs are old and made of vinyl and the table surface is slightly sticky, but honestly it’s the least of Donghyuck’s problems. He feels like there’s a great sign hanging over him — one of those neon ones you see in Las Vegas, with a big glowing finger pointing directly at his head.

This idiot got bitten by his roommate-slash-friend-with-benefits. Everyone stare at him. Point and laugh. Take a picture.

No-one does, of course. Donghyuck massages his temple as he eats, trying to ease the pressure on his skull. It’s a low ache — almost forgettable, only really coming to the forefront if he thinks too much about it. If he focuses on the bright lights or the pattern of the wallpaper, if he lets his thoughts stall. It’s okay if he thinks about Renjun, which is good because it’s not like he can stop.

What the fuck had even happened last night? They’d had sex — yes. That much was obvious. Renjun had held him like the world was turning to dust and Donghyuck had felt the bright light swallow them up, felt something take him over. He’d felt Renjun leave a print on his heart — something that glowed beneath his skin even now. Something powerful, something like a fingerprint. Like he was a thief snatching a jewel, coveting it only for himself.

_God_. Donghyuck can still taste him. The food doesn’t even taste like anything — all he can think about is Renjun.

It’s madness. He feels absolutely fucking mad. He feels like he’s given a part of himself away, but he’s not afraid. It’s a part he didn’t even know existed — a part that was made for another. Donghyuck had scooped it out with bloody hands and given it to Renjun, passed it through their kisses and the press of their bodies — and Renjun had accepted it.

His head pulses dully. 

When he leaves it’s started to drizzle — a gentle December rain that turns torrential by the time he runs back through the front lobby of the hotel, cursing under his breath as the raindrops drip from his nose. His hoodie is soaked and his jeans aren’t much better, clinging to his legs like a second skin as he peels them off, shivering in front of the big oil heater in the room. He towels himself off and brushes his teeth, grabbing a Tylenol from his bag and popping it in hopes of somehow fighting the low headache still brimming in his temple. 

In bed, wrapped in the sheets, he can’t stop thinking about Renjun. The claiming bite almost feels like it _burns_ , like it’s coming alive, digging into his bones and turning him into something else. He’s not Renjun’s property, but he belongs to him in some way or another. 

Donghyuck groans. Something sparks inside of him and he remembers how it had felt to have Renjun work him open — the slimness of his fingers, the pressure of his other hand on his thigh. The way he’d stared at him, so gentle and open. Assurances hovering on his lips that it was okay — that he was so good to him.

Donghyuck slips a hand into his sweatpants and sighs, wrapping it around his cock and stroking himself — slow, lazy. He lets his thoughts drift to Renjun — lets the memory of his body fill his mind. 

Not last night, but all the times before. All the times he'd had Renjun, all the times he'd rode him in his bed. The way he looked — head thrown back, shirt still on, hand wrapped around his cock as he'd fucked himself on Donghyuck's cock. The impossible heat of his body, the slide of his slick. 

The way he'd kiss Donghyuck, hold him like the world was falling apart. It was always so intense, like a whirlwind of cinders spinning endlessly in his chest, Renjun becoming the only thing that mattered. All his lines, all his warmth. His undeniable scent — so purely omega Donghyuck had wondered how he'd ever missed it. He’d been right there under his nose and he’d ignored it.

Why did it even matter? It didn’t matter. Renjun was here now and he’d had him in so many more ways than he could have imagined. He’d had him during his heat, and Renjun had asked for him. Not Jeno and Jaemin, who had been helping him for years. _Him_.

Donghyuck gasps, his orgasm slamming into him with no warning, spilling sticky and warm all over his hand. There’s a sweet smell in his nostrils and he lies on the bed afterwards, panting, wondering what the hell is happening to him.

  
  


*

  
  


It’s grey when he turns onto the I-35W — greyer still when he passes through the outskirts of Fort Worth. Perpetually threatening rain but never coming. He’s listening to a playlist that Renjun had made him and the ache in his temples has subsided, his mind oddly clear as the traffic glides past him. 

By the time he pulls down the driveway of his parents’ house it's dark, gravel crunching under the tyres of his truck, moths flickering in his headlights. He parks on the front lawn beside the chicken coop and steps out, and before his foot even hits the dirt the front door is open, his mother standing in the doorway, warm gold spilling out from behind her.

“Donghyuck,” she says, and he doesn’t even bother getting his bag from the backseat. He just walks up the path to the front door and throws his arms around her.

“Eomma,” he says, burying his face in her shoulder, standing on the bottom step so she doesn’t have to reach up to hug him. “I’m back.”

  
  


*

  
  


Dinner’s on the stove and he sits at the table in his childhood home, their dogs staring in hopefully from the threshold to the living room.

‘Did you eat?’ is the first thing his mother says, the second being ‘you need a haircut’, accompanied by her rough hands picking up and inspecting the ends of his mop of hair. 

“Look at you, Donghyuck,” she says, going back to the stove to stir whatever stew she’s cooking. “Did you even take care of yourself?”

“I like my hair,” Donghyuck protests. Renjun likes his hair, too. He likes running his hands through it. He likes grabbing it when Donghyuck sucks his cock. Massaging his fingers against his scalp, ruffling it when he passes him in the hall. Donghyuck has never had his hair longer than the bottom of his ears, but he finds he thinks he looks good like this.

“You look messy,” his mother says with a sigh. “This is what happens, isn’t it? When you leave me.”

“You’re not chopping my hair off,” Donghyuck says with a laugh. He opens up WhatsApp to tell Renjun he arrived home safe and takes a picture of the threshold, all three dogs sitting patiently, tails wagging, ears perked up, just like they used to do every day after he got home from high school. 

He sends it with the caption ‘at least someone has missed me.’ His phone lights up a second later, before he even gets a chance to lock it.

_someone back here misses you too_

Donghyuck blinks. He’s typing out a response when his younger sister comes into the room and immediately complains to his mom that she can’t _believe_ she didn’t tell her that Donghyuck was coming home. 

“Unnie lets Jiji sleep on your bed,” she says, when she turns to him — in lieu of a greeting. His twin sister — Dongjoo — isn’t home yet, currently living in Dallas for college, but he doesn’t doubt when he gets up to his room there will be a nice ring of black fur on his bed and a truth to his sister’s words.

“Thanks,” he says, laughing. “It’s good to see you too.” 

She smiles at him. “I hope you bought me presents!”

And that’s it. That’s his sister. His little brother only comes down when dinner is called, one arm of his glasses taped up, mud on his knees, barely even acknowledging Donghyuck when he hops up to the table and begins eating.

“Welcome back to Texas,” Donghyuck says under his breath, though he’s smiling.

  
  


*

  
  


He goes to bed early that night, after catching up with his mother and updating her on how college is in California (and insisting he doesn’t need a haircut). The pounding in his head comes and goes in waves and as he lies in his childhood bed, staring at the glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling, listening to the owls hoot outside, it feels like the ebb of the ocean.

He picks up his phone and toys with it for a second, before unlocking it. His conversation with Renjun pops back up, blinking in the gloom, the last message the photo of Donghyuck’s dogs. His fingers hover over the keyboard for a second, before he sees the dots that indicate Renjun is typing pop up, and he pauses, waiting to see what he’s saying. They blink in and out for a minute — stopping and restarting — before Donghyuck gives up and scrolls through the rest of his conversations. He messages Jisung to ask if he got home safe and then checks Instagram to see Jeno had posted a photo of his descent into Sydney — the harbour sparkling blue under the brilliant sunshine.

Of course. It was summer there. Here the wind is frigid and the sky is grey, the sun only showing for a few hours before retreating behind the cloud cover, warmth fleeting. 

He kicks his blanket around, making sure it’s covering his feet as he flicks back to his conversation with Renjun.

He’s still typing. 

you: _spit it out_

renjun: _go fuck urself_

renjun: _was going to ask u if u wanted a late christmas gift but im gonna eat it instead_

you: _wtf???_

Renjun replies with a sticker of a rabbit holding a heart, and Donghyuck sighs, typing out a response about how he’s getting him novelty sized mugs because he knows how funny they’ll look when he holds him with his baby hands.

He ends up falling asleep at almost four am — talking to Renjun the entire time, their time difference forgotten entirely. Sleeping restfully and waking at near noon to drizzle falling on the tin roof.

He yawns and reaches over to take a drink of his water, drinking it down, lying down on bed for a minute before getting up and walking downstairs to see what he can scrounge up for breakfast.

His parents are out, his sister sitting in the living room on her laptop, his little brother gone with his parents. He gives her a wave and she raises her eyebrows at him, smiling, one of their dogs sitting on the couch beside her fast asleep. 

Donghyuck takes his breakfast — cornflakes first, milk second (because unlike Jeno he’s not a psychopathic heathen) — and opens the ranch slider, sitting out on the sheltered section of the porch in the hanging seat that had traditionally been reserved for their Border Collie, Mimi. She’d passed a year and a half ago, but even so her fur still lingers on the cushions, and Donghyuck picks a few strands off his sweatpants as he sits and watches the rain fall, eating slowly. 

Everything is still. A few cattle far out in the fields, but apart from that the skeletal trees have no birds and no traffic travels along the country road. The air is thick with the scent of the green grass and rainfall, and the swing creaks under his weight, everything wrapping up into a cocoon of peace and quiet.

As Donghyuck brings the bowl to his mouth to drink the milk he realises, belatedly, that he wishes Renjun was here with him too.

  
  


*

  
  


Donghyuck goes back up to his room and proceeds to flop back down onto his bed and play his Playstation. The rain clears in the late afternoon but Donghyuck has no real desire to leave his bed — or even his room. The pounding in his head seems to have almost entirely receded and the sunlight comes bright, clouds outside parting to reveal a sky of deep blue, Donghyuck cracking the window to let the cool air in. In the backyard his youngest brother picks worms from the fresh puddles with his bare hands, placing them carefully in a yellow pail, no doubt preparing to show them to their mom when he’s deemed he has enough to be worthy of an early Christmas gift.

Going through his things yesterday evening he’d found another of Renjun’s sweatshirts — black, soft and worn. On the back there’s a white umbrella logo that he’s sure belongs to a band he doesn’t recognise, and it’s paradoxically warm — even though it shouldn’t be after being buried at the bottom of his bag for so long. It smells so deeply of Renjun that Donghyuck can’t help lift it to his nose and inhale letting his scent drift through every part of him. 

He swears it makes his head feel a little more clear — like a gust of wind blowing away the fog, like stepping into the warmth after being trapped in the snow.

He’ll never admit it though. Last night he’d slept with it curled up in his arms, and this afternoon he’s fully progressed to wearing it, giving himself the mental excuse that if it helps with his headache then it’s fine. It’s definitely the bite that’s making him sick — once his body purges it he’s sure he’ll be okay.

Renjun himself is the one who interrupts his train of thought — a blinking message notification with the info that he’s just woken up, and would Donghyuck like to have a voice call?

He’s lonely.

Donghyuck blinks. He stares at his phone, like text might transform to reveal its true message.

When the fuck has Renjun ever said he was lonely? When the fuck has Renjun ever wanted to _call_ him? Renjun, who pays five bucks extra to order from a different pizza place because it means he doesn’t have to do a phone order. Renjun who's liable to sit in his room and threaten bodily harm to anyone who so much as tries to get a word out of him. Is he possessed? Did someone steal his phone?

"Hi Donghyuck."

The answer it seems is no. It's Renjun. Voice sleepy and soft, yawning into the receiver. Donghyuck puts his phone down for a second and scrambles to get his headphones connected, plugs them in and lies back down on his bed, hands crossed on his chest.

"Hi," he says, trying to sound as casual as possible. He's pretty sure he completely overshoots the mark, because his heart thuds in his ribcage and he sounds breathless — like he'd done more than lie in bed playing on his PS4 for the past four hours.

Renjun yawns, the smack of his lips audible. "Sorry," he says. "Ugh. Alarm didn't go off."

"You seemed like you needed the sleep," Donghyuck says. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, slow, as Renjun regales him with the tale of how he'd had a song idea last night and had just _had_ to get something down before his brain leaked it all out, resulting in him staying up late because he'd gotten distracted by another unfinished song and suddenly it was four am and he was digging in his files, trying to find that track from two years ago.

"But did you get it finished?"

"It's a bit rough, but I think so, yeah."

"Then that's good."

There's a second's pause. The clink of ceramics -- a mug placed on the bench, the tap turning on. Something in the air, like they're both weighing it up. Like Renjun hadn't just opened his heart up and hidden it again.

"How's it at home? Keeping the house running?"

"It's fine. Weird being alone, but we'll handle it."

“We’ll? You’ve already replaced me?” 

He’s delighted at the laugh Renjun lets out. It’s full bodied and pure, ringing clear even through his tinny cell phone microphone. Donghyuck can almost imagine the scene — Renjun standing in the kitchen with his head thrown back, beautiful as ever, sunlight flowing around him.

Something pangs in his heart and he lets out a sigh, freezing in the vague hope that somehow Renjun didn’t hear him.

“Don’t sigh at me,” Renjun says. “Of course I’ve replaced you. There’s a family of three in your room right now. The kid likes wearing your boots.”

“Fuck off,” Donghyuck says. Renjun has never let the missing cowboy boot go, and Donghyuck almost doesn’t blame him. It’s comical in a way — who loses a single shoe and then gets it broadcasted on the local college Facebook page?

“Never. You can’t get rid of me,” Renjun says. There’s a fondness in the words — a soft smile. Something squeezes at Donghyuck’s heart and he finds he’s grinning — a little giddy.

“So you do miss me?”

“Maybe a little. It’s been quiet around here without you crashing around.”

“That’s basically a marriage proposal from you, geeze. You sure you’re okay?”

“Mm,” Renjun says. Another laugh. He takes a drink of water and Donghyuck can hear him swallow — _glug glug glug_ — before the mug hits the bench again. “Just been catching up on sleep. My head’s been fucking killing me — think it’s all those late night cramming sessions taking their revenge.”

Donghyuck breathes out. The bite twitches and he reaches up to press his fingers against it, catching himself at the last second and clenching his hand into a tight fist.

“Me too,” he says. “The headache, I mean.”

“Post exam hangover,” Renjun says. 

A scuffle on the other line. The sound of his footsteps up the stairs, two at a time, the way he always does when he’s bored, stretching his legs that are far too short — really — to do the job properly. He starts to sing — only a few words, mostly mumbling, then apologises after the thud of a door in the background.

“And we’re back in bed,” Renjun says with a sigh.

“Back?”

“I just woke up, leave me alone.”

“It’s like two pm,” Donghyuck says, neglecting entirely to mention that he’s in bed too. Outside the window, high in the sky, a hawk is doing loops. Searching for mice to eviscerate. For food to bring back home.

“Again. Leave me alone.”

“Oh, you’re not lonely anymore? You wanna be left alone?” Donghyuck says — half teasing, half serious. Half wanting to poke at what Renjun had let him see — that moment of vulnerability that was so rare with him.

“What?” It’s pitched up — a little strained, a little desperate. “No. I — I don’t know.”

A heartbeat. Like the world breathes beneath him, lungs of the Earth expanding for a second. Somewhere in the pale blue the hawk dives, a bullet from a gun.

“It’s okay,” Donghyuck says, and it’s delicate. Soft. The way he wishes he could handle Renjun, sometimes — the way he wishes he could treat him, even though he won’t let him. Show him that he deserves his kindness — that he doesn’t have to clam up at so much of the slightest hint of genuine affection. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

Something hums — not somehow, but more an awareness of some kind of energy in him. His headache has eased, he realises — like Renjun is a panacea.

Moreover, he realises it’s been two days, but god — Donghyuck _misses_ him.

“But if you want to. I’m here.”

“I know,” Renjun says, after a long pause. “It’s just.” He takes a deep breath, his shaky exhale audible. “I don’t know how to put it into words without it sounding ridiculous. Like I’m in love with you—” Donghyuck’s heart jumps, a blast beat, like Renjun’s foot is on the kick pedal “—or something else stupid.” 

“You’ve sounded stupid enough times in front of me for me not to care, Renjun. You’re allowed to miss people.”

“I just don’t want to come off the wrong way. But yeah. That’s it, I guess. I miss you. It’s like you took… god this sounds so stupid. It’s like you took part of me with you, or something.”

“I kind of did,” Donghyuck says, and the bite pulses. “I might have stolen your hoodie.”

“What?” Renjun says. A wave of relief crashes down on Donghyuck and he uncurls his fists from where he’d been clutching at his sheets. Steering to safer water, storm on the horizon now on his left. “You _stole_ my hoodie? Wait, which one?”

“I didn’t steal it, it was just in my bag. It’s nice.” He pulls the neck up a little more so it’s over his nose again — so he’s breathing in Renjun’s scent. “The black one with the umbrella on the back.”

“You little shit,” Renjun says, though he’s laughing. “Sixteen year old emo Renjun is _so_ not impressed with you right now.”

“Oh, so it is one of your bands?”

“Yeah,” Renjun says. “I was obsessed with Bring Me The Horizon in high school. I literally wore that hoodie every day for _months_.”

Donghyuck has literally no idea what he’s talking about, but he’ll play along. “No wonder it smells so much like you. Your scent is _all over_ this.”

“Really?” Renjun says. “Geeze. Yeah. I presented when I was sixteen. You know I sent that hoodie through like twenty wash cycles, until the print started cracking, and Yuqi still told me it stunk like omega. So I stopped wearing it outside. I was crushed.”

“It doesn’t smell like omega,” Donghyuck says. “It just smells like you.”

Renjun hums. “Huh,” he says, and there’s another tick. Donghyuck breathes deep, Renjun’s scent curling over him — warm and comforting, his entire body responding to it with a wave of something indescribable. Like walking into a room that’s been in the sun all day long — lying on the bed and staring up at a ceiling of stars. “Well, I hope you give it back. I don’t even know how you got it.”

“You must have left it in my room. I literally grabbed stuff off the floor when I was packing.” 

Renjun lets out a hmph, then laughs again. “Wonder what you look like wearing it. It was always my dream to have a boy wear my clothes.” He sighs. “Only, y’know, in my head I was the alpha and he was the omega.”

There’s no bitterness in the words — just an abject fact. A dream of a boy who couldn’t have known that life would turn out so differently to his plan.

“Wearing your hoodie? And nothing else?”

A sharp intake of breath, then a chuckle. “So forward, Donghyuck.”

“It’s a real question,” Donghyuck says. “Do you want to see me in your things? Stinking like you? Like I belong to you.”

Something sparks in him, a tiny flare that expands as Renjun lets out a ragged breath.

“Do you want to belong to me?”

“Don’t I already? I’m your alpha.” 

He’s not sure why he’s saying it. What’s changed in him. Is it the bite? Is it the way Renjun had looked at him — the way he’d met his eyes as he’d fucked him. How it had felt for Donghyuck to surrender and allow himself to be so seen? The sheer heat that had come off his skin — not just his metabolism but something more. Like Renjun was a collapsing star, like the very act of being with Donghyuck would cause him to combust.

“Mine,” Renjun echoes. 

The bite pulses. As if he’s under the influence — a ghost hand guiding him — Donghyuck reaches down and squeezes himself through his sweatpants. He’s still soft — not quite there — but as he rubs his hand against his cock he feels a jump in his gut, a heat like a match striking the box.

“Yeah. Yours.”

“You’re my alpha,” Renjun purrs. “Oh my. And here I thought you were infallible.”

“Shut up,” Donghyuck says. “Just shut up.”

“Have you been missing me?”

“So much,” Donghyuck says, and he palms himself, squeezing at his cock again, giving up and reaching under his waistband to properly wrap his hand around it.

“Have you been thinking about me?” Renjun asks. There’s something coiling in his voice — lazy, thick, settling on his senses like a drug.

“Now and then.”

He thinks of the night in the motel — how he lay in bed, pretending it was Renjun’s hands on him. The searing heat that had slashed through him, the way he’d come like he was buried in Renjun’s ass instead of alone on someone else's bed. 

“What about when you touch yourself?”

It's like Renjun knows. Like he has a sixth sense for it, electricity running along a wire that connects then.

"Yeah," Donghyuck breathes out.

"Mmm." Renjun hums. There's a pause for a second, just the faint sound of Donghyuck's hand on his cock, then Renjun speaks again. "What do you think about?" 

Donghyuck takes a harsh breath. He can't help it. “Why, you want an ego boost?”

“I want you to admit it,” Renjun says. “I want you to admit you think of me when you touch yourself.”

“I think about you all the time,” Donghyuck says, and it’s without a lick of shame. Trickling down his spine, red hot. “Whenever you’re away from me, it’s all I can do not to say your name.”

Renjun gasps. “Oh my god,” he says. “Hyuck, warn a guy would you?”

“Are you wet?” Donghyuck asks. He slips his other hand into his pants, shoving his boxers down to properly free his cock, thumbing at his deflated knot, sparks rocking through him. 

There’s a rustle, then Renjun whines: “Yeah.”

“Thinking about me?”

“I already told you I miss you,” Renjun hisses. “I miss your body. Your—” he stutters, and Donghyuck knows he’s touching himself. “Oh my god. Tell me. Tell me what you think about.”

Donghyuck thumbs at himself again. “I think of how you taste,” he says. “How you tasted when you were in heat.” He hisses, recalling the memory. Lifting Renjun up and pressing his tongue into him, smearing his slick all over his lips. “The way you begged, the sound of your voice.”

“Had you ever had an omega in heat?” Renjun asks.

“No,” Donghyuck says, and it’s almost a whine. Just the memory is enough to bring it all back in searing clarity. “You were the first.”

“Was it good?”

“It was incredible. I—I worry you’ve ruined me. No-one will ever be as good as you again.”

“Good,” Renjun says, and it explodes within Donghyuck, bursting in his gut, a feral haze that descends on him as something tightens in his stomach. “You’re touching yourself, aren’t you?” 

Donghyuck pants, his skin hot beneath his palm, swiping at the precum leaking from the head of his cock. “Are you?” he asks.

Renjun breathes close to the receiver, harsh and loud, his voice straight in Donghyuck’s ears, traveling down to his cock. “Of course I am.”

“Are you thinking about me?”

“I’m thinking about how it felt when I fucked you,” Renjun says. “The way you’d looked. I wanna fuck you again. I want to see you ride my cock, Hyuck.”

The slide of Renjun’s hand on his cock is audible — slick, wet, his breath harsh. 

“Fuck,” Donghyuck breathes out, something winding in him. “I’ve never been fucked the way you fucked me.”

“You really are ruined, aren’t you?” Renjun says with a laugh, though it doesn’t carry the weight it should — it betrays just how needy Renjun is. “God I can’t wait to bend you over and fill you up. I can’t wait to get you on your hands and knees and fuck you until you’re moaning like you’re in heat.”

“Shit,” Donghyuck says, just as something shoots through him, an aching spark, like a match to wick. “Shit, Renjun I’m so close. Holy fuck I want you inside me so bad.”

“I want you so much,” Renjun says. “C’mon. C’mon Hyuck. Come for me, like you did on my cock. Come for me, _alpha_.”

It’s like nothing Donghyuck has ever experienced. Pleasure roars through him, a great rush of white noise and he stutters, gasping and letting out a near feral whine as he comes, everything punching through him, the grit in Renjun’s voice spurring him on as he shudders through it. It’s the hotel bed but it’s a thousand times better, it echoes back through him, Renjun gasping and panting into his ear, the whine he lets out when he comes garbled and chopped up with static.

  
  


*

  
  


“Well,” Renjun says, after they’ve both cleaned up. 

Donghyuck sits on the edge of his bed, his pheromones absolutely stinking in his nostrils, still slightly breathless. "Well,” he echoes. 

“That was nice.”

“Do you really miss me?”

There’s a second of silence, then Renjun sighs. “Kind of, I guess.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“It’s whatever,” Renjun continues, ignoring him. “It’s nice to have some peace and quiet, but I do have to admit my hand doesn’t quite match you.”

“Of course it’s about the sex,” Donghyuck says, rolling his eyes — even though he knows Renjun can’t see it.

“While I think the last thing you need is an overinflated ego, I will say you are a very good fuck, Donghyuck.”

He preens at that. “You’re not too bad. For an omega.”

“And you’re up there for an alpha.”

“I’m not even the best?”

“Keep trying. I’m sure you’ll get there one day.”

For some reason that makes Donghyuck excited. The implication that there will be more and more chances. More time spent with Renjun. No-one has ever quite gotten him quite the way Renjun does, and it’s like even when they’ve just parted Donghyuck wants to circle back. Talk to him more. Learn more things about him. There’s the perpetual worry that one day they’ll run out of things to speak about, but as it is for now Donghyuck will hold onto everything they have — he’ll hold onto all the little moments, all the times Renjun digs at him, all their inside jokes and days spent sitting on the roof together and drinking beer. All the times they’ve lay side by side in bed, skin soaked in sweat, whispering secrets to each other.

The way Renjun just seems to work with him — the way they anticipate each other’s thoughts. Creating their own little language, answering questions that aren’t even asked. 

“You can’t challenge me, Renjun. You know I’ll kick your ass. I believe you still owe me, anyway. I believe there was a challenge thrown down in your kitchen that you never rose to.”

Renjun huffs. “Well, I intended to make my winning prize that I get to fuck you, but I suppose the point is moot now.”

Donghyuck’s stomach twists a little at that. The reminder that he had just gotten off to the thought of Renjun fucking him again. Renjun pushing him down into the mattress, Donghyuck with his ass up in the air while he whined for his cock. He feels a stir of heat in his stomach and smothers it, swallowing harshly.

“What’s wrong with a bit of healthy competition for the sake of ego?” Donghyuck asks.

“Good point,” Renjun says, humming. “We should do it when you get back here, then. When are you coming home, anyway?”

“I’ll be back on the evening of the 28th,” Donghyuck says. He plans on leaving on the morning of the 27th. Not long with his family, but any longer and he knows he’ll start going crazy. For as much as he’s missed them, there’s a reason both he and his sister had scheduled their arrival so close to Christmas — it grates on him after a while. The expectations for the two of them — twin eldest alphas — the constant poking. When are you taking over the farm? What are you doing with your life? You’re not dating, are you? You should focus on your studies. 

Donghyuck had already disappointed them enough with the one-two punch of both a Literature Degree and his complete disregard for every sweet southern omega they’d tried to set him up with. He’s not going to do a third by telling them just exactly what he gets up to California. He’s not going to stay long enough for it to come out, either.

“Cool,” Renjun says. “I’ll plan something for you, then. Have dinner on the table like a good omega.”

“Shut up,” Donghyuck says, though he’s laughing. “The idea of you being any kind of perfect omega house-husband is actually impossible to imagine.”

“I think I’d look cute,” Renjun says, the pout in his voice obvious. “Get myself a little apron. Let my pheromones run free.” He sighs wistfully. “I’d make a great trophy husband, I think.”

“You’re too loud. No-one would put up with you.”

“Not even you?”

Renjun has a way of cutting to the core of things — saying things that leave Donghyuck breathless. In an instant he imagines it — just for a second. Kissing Renjun hello when he comes home. Waking up to him. Living with him. He’s like no-one else he’s ever met — filled with fire, filled with this unquenchable thirst to keep living. This drive to move forward — this core of iron that stands steadfast.

“Maybe,” Donghyuck says. 

There’s silence on the other end, and he can imagine Renjun. Lying in his bed on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Posters and books and all his instruments, all his banners, all his clutter. Hair fanning out around his head, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The way his eyes sparkle, how soft all his edges must look. He probably smells delicious — probably isn’t even using his blockers considering he’s home alone. His big hoodie and his sweatpants, swimming in his clothes.

Donghyuck wishes he could lie down next to him. He wishes he could bury his face in his neck and inhale him.

“Maybe,” Renjun repeats, so quiet Donghyuck isn’t even sure he actually says it — like he’s talking to himself. Thinking out loud. “Yeah, me too.”

  
  


*

  
  


Donghyuck spends the rest of his day like he spent the morning — playing on his PS4. The rain returns in the late afternoon, and his sister arrives in the late evening — far after they’ve all finished dinner and his parents have retired to their room to watch television. 

In the end he’s glad they’re the only two there, because when Donghyuck greets her she takes one look at him, pinches her nose and loudly asks who’s the lucky omega. 

Donghyuck, who's slathered six ways to Sunday in blockers, feels his stomach drop out of his ass. 

  
  


*

  
  


"Your scent is different," Dongjoo says, sitting with a glass of wine in one hand and the other buried in the fur of one of their dogs. The Christmas lights on the tree twinkle, and the house is still, everyone else gone to bed early in anticipation of Christmas day.

"How?" Donghyuck asks. 

Dongjoo sniffs in response, leaning in close to his neck to inhale. Having an alpha this close to him makes his hackles raise — even if it's his twin sister — and he has to fist his hands in the fabric of his shirt to stop himself from snarling. 

"You _are_ wearing a lot of blockers," she notes, frowning. "But you smell sweeter." She narrows her eyes at him, and he feels his hairs stand on end. 

In an instant he knows that she knows about the bite. 

"Don't say anything," he hisses, pre-emptive.

“Is it an omega? It’s an omega right?”

“Yes,” Donghyuck says, his voice a harsh whisper. “It was an accident.”

“An omega _claimed_ you by accident? Donghyuck, you can’t claim someone by accident.” 

“Well it sure as hell wasn’t on purpose.”

“Is that what he told you?”

“I don’t even think he knows he did it.”

“Donghyuck,” she says. “You can’t bite someone by accident. You can’t be _bitten_ by accident. You have to be open to it. Receptive. It’s not just baring your neck. You have to open your body and mind. You have to…” she trails off, and stares at him, dark eyes searching him. 

“What?” he asks. He’s trying as hard as he possibly can to reign in the panic churning in his stomach like kicked up mud under a tire, but he’s also sure he’s almost certainly failing. 

“Can I see it?” Dongjoo says. She purses her lips and glances towards the hallway — but it’s late. No-one else is awake. The two people with the best senses in the house are sitting right here — the both of them would hear any intruder long before anyone else heard them.

Donghyuck’s heart thunders in his ears, and he nods. There’s no harm in it, is there? He knows how bad it looks — and what would Dongjoo know, anyway? They’re both alphas — it’s not like she can know if Renjun meant it.

He reaches up and tugs the collar of his shirt away from his neck, and Dongjoo gasps.

“Holy shit,” she says. She tilts her head to the side, and something dull pulses at the edge of Donghyuck’s skull — the bite making itself known. Like he doesn’t already know it’s there. He’d looked at it in the mirror this morning — examined how bad it had become. The bruises had turned a deepened shade of plum and the sharp puncture marks of Renjun’s fangs were like two bloodied full stops — miniature blood moons hanging over the scene of the crime. 

“Yeah, it’s dramatic isn’t it?”

“I’ll say.”

Donghyuck is on high alert. Mind open, every part of his alpha senses on high alert. He can hear his sister’s heartbeat — can hear the wind outside, the soft snores his parents are letting out upstairs. A drop of water falls from the tap in one of the bathrooms, echoing, and he jumps when Dongjoo lays her hand on his knee. 

“Donghyuck. Who is he?”

  
  
  
  


Donghyuck realises very quickly it’s quite hard not to wax poetic when talking about Renjun. How pretty he is doesn’t matter. How nice he is doesn’t matter. The way two of them get along doesn’t matter — as much. He just tells Dongjoo that Renjun is his roommate — that he’d helped him with a medical anomaly of a heat. That they’d started an arrangement after that. That Renjun doesn’t believe in claiming or bonding, and that’s why Donghyuck is sure he didn’t intend to bite him.

“Did he bite you during his heat?” she asks.

“No. Months afterwards. Why?”

“Just curious.”

“Why are you the authority on bites, anyway? I tried looking it up and everything I found was either weird porn fantasies on Reddit or people talking about an alpha accidentally biting them. No-one talks about being bitten by an omega.”

“We covered a bit in my class. And anyway, I want to help you, Donghyuck. You look stressed.”

“I’m not stressed. My head just hurts.”

“Yeah, from stress.” 

There’s a pause, the two of them meeting each other’s eyes. 

He and Dongjoo have always gotten along well. He supposes nine months of sharing a womb with someone will do that, but even so he’s always felt they just get each other. They’d presented on the same day. If there’s anyone in the world he shares a strange psychic link with it’s probably her.

“Either that or the unholy amount of junk food I’ve been eating,” Donghyuck says. It falls a little flat, and he winces as Dongjoo gives him a sympathetic look. 

“Are you going to tell him?” she asks. “That he bit you, I mean?”

“Should I? It was a mistake. He’d beat himself up if he knew, I’m sure, and I don’t think he needs that in his life.”

“Maybe he’d want to know.” 

The bite pulses. He doesn’t know if it’s in agreement or not. “I don’t think he’d want to.”

“Do you know that? Or are you scared it’ll change your relationship with him?” 

“What are you, my therapist?” 

“God no,” she says, and she laughs, but it’s soft. “I would not want to be inside your head. I’m just asking you to think about it, Donghyuck. Because him biting you means something. It means the both of you were open to it. Neither of you might have intended it, but it happened all the same.”

She covers Donghyuck’s hand with hers and he recoils slightly, heartbeat quickening.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he says. 

“Yeah? I didn’t ask to come home and find out my baby brother had been bitten by an omega.”

Always the baby. He’s three minutes younger than her, but she’ll never let him forget it. 

“Then let me deal with it, Joo. Don’t worry.”

“You know I worry.”

“Mom does enough of that for you.”

“The only thing she worries about is if you’re going to get a job when you graduate. She doesn’t worry about _us_. She won’t worry about this. I bet she hasn’t even noticed.”

“You know she won’t notice. She’s an omega.”

“Your scent is different, Donghyuck.” She sniffs. “He’s scented you like crazy, but even so. How are you going to play that off to him? The bite will fade in a day or two, but you can’t hide your scent.”

“He won’t notice,” Donghyuck says. He hopes he won’t. Maybe it’s wrong to rely on Renjun’s omega senses — or their general proximity to each other — as an excuse, but he knows he can’t tell Renjun. He doesn’t want to put him through that.

“Yeah?” she says. She smiles at him. “Then I trust you.”

“Thank you,” Donghyuck says, even though he doesn’t trust himself. Even though he worries she’s right. He knows he’s protecting Renjun, but there’s a sliver of truth to what she’d said too. He’d felt that truth on his back in his bed — Renjun’s body above his, skin shining in the light, heat curling around them. The way he’d stared straight through him, the way Donghyuck had felt like there was so much _more_. 

It was just lust, wasn’t it?

(There has never been anyone like Renjun.)

He and Dongjoo continue talking, the conversation turning to both their studies. She’s doing medicine. Donghyuck doesn’t understand half of it, but it doesn’t matter. She seems to be happy. Donghyuck talks about California and the sunshine and the heat — about Jisung and going out to Joshua Tree together. Their frat, all their parties. Shotgunning weed with Chenle, going to the semiformal. How Renjun had looked — how well he’d dressed up. How they’d spent the whole night together, dancing in ignorance of both their dates, hovering around the food table a little too much, braving the cool winter night to have their drinks on the balcony of the event centre. 

(What he doesn’t tell her is this. How much he’d wanted to kiss Renjun. How good he’d looked. The way he’d sparkled under the lights, the way his heart had jumped when Renjun had taken his cup from his hand and downed it, their fingers brushing together)

And as she’s talking it hits him. Like a ton of fucking bricks, an anvil dropped at his feet. He swears there must be an audible thud — his heart skipping a beat, and then another.

“Oh god,” he says, cutting her off part way through one of her sentences. He doesn’t know what she’s talking about. He wasn’t listening — he was lost in his own world, caught under the stars, slow dancing in an empty room with Renjun. 

“What?” Dongjoo asks, sounding a little worried considering Donghyuck probably looks like he’s been slapped in the face.

“I think I’m in love with him.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/dongrenle)/[curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/goldhorn). keep me accountable.


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